


Under the Hood

by xGalaxyQueenx



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, Robin Hood AU, fairytale AU, ladrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6149026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xGalaxyQueenx/pseuds/xGalaxyQueenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The long, dark, forest road was rife with rumours of two hooded heroes. One who wore red, and the other in black; they stole from the rich to save the poor of their town from starvation and debt. Under their hoods and behind their masks were secrets that they didn’t even trust with each other. He was a sheltered prince, striving to right his Father’s wrongs whilst maintaining the image of a perfect son. She was a baker’s daughter, putting her life on the line day in and day out to save her family from being cast onto the streets. They couldn’t have led more different lives, but they needed each other – no matter what name they lived by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

A long, long time ago, or so the stories say, there was a great and beautiful land named Eurasia. It came to be split into thirteen kingdoms, ranging from the western isle of Bretagna to Cina in the far east, and, as the history of any nation would tell you, it was defined by war.

After centuries of near endless conflict, when the idea of peace between the kingdoms was little more than a dream in the hearts of the young, King Adrien I of Francia decided he was tired of sending good men to their deaths on the battlefield. As a grand, but risky, gesture, he extended an invitation to his enemies and allies from all the Eurasian kingdoms; urging them to bring their finest knights and warriors to partake in a tournament that would test their speed, skill and strength.

Although this tournament would not resolve the hostilities between the kingdoms overnight, it did mark the beginning of a proud and celebrated tradition in Francia and the start of a new diplomatic era for the whole of Eurasia.

Years passed, and the realms flourished. Francia became known for its acres of lush countryside and the stunning architecture of the capital, Parigi. Artists from all over the land would visit for even the smallest chance of painting the views of the Francian Grand Palace, which stood proudly atop the western cliffs. The tournaments hosted there were renown across the continent for knights and peasants alike to prove their worth.

King Gabriel VII, a direct descendant of Adrien I, ascended to the Francian throne far earlier than expected. As a result, he learnt how to put on a cold and harsh exterior to keep the lords and ladies of his court in line. The woman he took as his Queen, Princess Emilie of Bretagna, was almost his exact opposite. She was warm, kind and generous, directly balancing Gabriel’s nature and oh, how he loved her for it. They were each other’s world and ruled over Francia with all the wisdom and joy that the country needed.

It was not long before they were blessed with a beautiful baby boy, with his mother’s bright green eyes and his father’s defined features. They named him Adrien, after the Great King, and his name day was declared a national holiday throughout the land. Everything was peaceful and good.

But of course, like all good things, one day it had to come to an end, and everything changed the day Emilie took ill.

The Southern Kingdom of Intia, jealous of Francia’s resources and wanting to extend their territory, invaded and began to pillage and destroy the villages closest to the border. Not that that mattered to the King, who remained at his Queen’s side and left the people to fend for themselves. His subjects began to lose faith, along with all their possessions.

Emilie died just before Prince Adrien’s first birthday. Her death broke something inside Gabriel, who led his troops into one of the bloodiest battles Francia had experienced since the days of Adrien I. Intia was beaten out of the country, their armies destroyed, as Gabriel lashed out with all the pain and grief that had accompanied his loss.

When the war was over, Gabriel became obsessed with making the country that Emilie had loved so much stable and secure. Every political move was calculated meticulously, and the Francian Army was drilled with the utmost precision. He collected and hoarded all the money he could scrape together so if the time came and they would have to return to the fighting, they would be ready.

As for his son, the young prince grew up in a cold world where he was just a pawn in his father’s games. He never knew the joy and warmth that used to inhabit the castle and the rest of the land. Time went on, and Gabriel grew more and more fixated on his ever-changing goals for Francia. The poor were starving, begging and stealing just to stay alive as the king taxed them into poverty. There was no hope for the people anymore.

That was until two hooded figures started appearing in the shadows of the trees.


	2. Masked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all good fairy tales begin with a robbery and hidden identities.

It was a late, lazy afternoon towards the end of spring. The sun had just begun to set in the sky over the horizon, and the townsfolk in Parigi were closing their shops and heading home for the night. Children were playing in the green meadows just outside the town’s gate, and the birds flitted among the trees, singing and squawking at each other.

A soft breeze hung in the air and tickled the rosy cheeks of a man who was sat on a brilliant ornate carriage. He was short and stout enough that the buttons on his jacket looked as if they were ready to pop at any moment. He had a roundish face, with small, sunken eyes that revealed the years of stress and exhaustion he carried on his shoulders and, although it was currently covered nicely with a hat, his hairline was receding, and he was starting to find a few more grey hairs than he desired.

But, as this man drove the carriage nervously along the road, he cursed himself because he knew that at that moment, he was a complete and utter idiot.

He had heard the stories and heeded the warnings, but still decided to take the Kwami Pass back to the castle instead of the longer coastal road with the smooth track and pleasant sunset views. The man shifted on his cushion, clutching tightly to the reins of two beautiful white horses and, with a quick glance back towards the carriage door, he urged them to go faster. The trees started to thicken overhead, and the branches crept lower, threatening to clutch at his clothes and scratch at his face. He paled, shaking and sweating nervously, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was afraid of.

Until he felt it.

A slight dip in the road, barely noticeable but it did cause the carriage to jolt. The man bounced in his seat with a thud and tensed. He had been in this role for a long time and as if by clockwork, a screech erupted from the inside of the carriage, sending familiar shivers down his spine.

“ _MY HAIR!”_

There were a few muffled words in the carriage, followed by three thumps on the side. The man dejectedly pulled the horses to a stop and sighed as he watched them paw the ground, frustratingly waiting for their next instruction. Following the usual routine, he looped his reins around the post by his seat and slid ungracefully down to the ground. He walked reluctantly around to the carriage door and opened it, standing to attention as he did so.

The first woman to step out was his mistress’ handmaiden. A woman by the name of Sabrina, who had bright orange hair that she tired back neatly with a white ribbon, and a dark green gown with a criss-cross purple tie around her waist. She didn’t look at the man who had been driving the carriage, standing with her nose in the air and her hand held out instead.

A second hand slipped out and took hold of Sabrina’s tightly as his mistress took the two steps out of the carriage. Her dress was made of the finest gold thread and the best yellow fabric that money could buy. It was so wide that she was almost stuck in the door frame. She was known as the Lady Chloé Bourgeois, daughter of Duke Andre Bourgeois, the second most powerful man in Francia, and current guest of the King. However, judging by the way she was moving her entourage into the Palace, it was evident she was expecting her ‘guest’ status to become a little more permanent.

Chloé looked at her driver and began to rant loudly about the man’s incompetence. It was something that he had heard multiple times in the past and expected to listen to it on many future occasions as well. However, it had been a long day carting Chloé and Sabrina to the dressmakers and other upmarket places in Parigi, and he had no desire to listen to her go on about the importance of her hair and what the bumps in the road did to it for the umpteenth time. So, he let his mind wander, looking past her into the trees and being distracted by the rustling as the wind passed through them.

Or what he assumed to be the wind, anyway. If the driver had looked a little closer, he might have been lucky enough to see a slither of movement as a young man, around the same age as Chloé, quickly climbed into the branches of the trees and watched the conversation with keen green eyes. He was known only as Chat Noir, top and tailed in a black tunic and boots. He also wore a black hood that hid his golden hair, and a black mask across his eyes. A wooden staff was his usual weapon of choice, but he would brag about his swordsmanship often as well.

He had been following them for a while, dodging through the trees to try and keep up and now he lay on his stomach on an overhanging tree branch, scratching behind his ear and biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at Chloé’s reaction to a small hole in the road. Looking across at the other side of the path to where his partner was standing, he met her eyes and grinned. She cocked her head questioningly and pointed towards the carriage.

She was wearing a similar outfit to him: a dark red mask and a red hood to conceal her identity and a matching tunic that fell halfway down her thighs. She had her longbow and quiver strapped to her back, a dagger holstered at her hip and a thin grappling hook looped precariously around her waist as a belt. The people called her Ladybug, due to a spattering of black smudges along the hem of her tunic. This, she had once confessed to Chat Noir, was due to an ink spillage whilst she was making the outfit. She couldn’t wash it out, nor did she have the time or money to start over, so she had left it. Eventually, it had become somewhat of an iconic fashion statement – one that many high-end Parigian’s had been copying onto their own clothes.

Chat Noir nodded to her. They had been partners for almost a year now, and they would meet up daily, and as a result, he felt as if he could tell exactly what she was thinking. The two of them never needed to talk to coordinate their plans.

Slowly but surely, he twisted so he was hanging from the branch and landed with catlike grace on top of the carriage. He then turned to hold out his hand to Ladybug, who slipped seamlessly from the trees and allowed him to pull her up into his arms. With another quick look at where Chloé still happened to be ranting (she had moved on to a lecture about how it was essential to look your best at all times), Chat Noir helped Ladybug down through the open door of the carriage. Quickly and quietly, she raided it for any spare coins she could find, passing them back up to him unbeknownst to the three occupants.

Once Ladybug had finished, Chat Noir slid off the roof of the carriage and coughed to attract their attention.

“So sorry to interrupt,” he called, grinning widely once Chloé, Sabrina and their driver turned to stare at him. The blood drained from the driver’s face, and Sabrina looked as if she was going to be sick. “Try not to worry too much, and this will all go _purr-_ fectly.” He didn’t need to see Ladybug’s face to know that she had just rolled her eyes as she jumped out of the carriage and walked to stand next to him.

“You will have to excuse my companion,” she said, “he believes he is hilarious. Ignore him and let’s get on with business.” She held her hand out, looking Chloé directly in the eye. “I want your coin purse.”

Chloé sputtered and shook her head.

“I cannot believe you think it’s alright to come and attack my carriage like this! Do you not know who I am?”

“Lady Chloé Bourgeois,” Chat Noir interrupted. He knew her without this mask on, back in his everyday life. She was a bratty girl, who might have been beautiful if not for the look of complete and utter disgust he saw on her face. “Don’t think of it as an attack, think of it more as making a forced donation to the poor!”

Chloé huffed and opened her mouth to say something else, but Ladybug held up a gloved finger and shushed her.

“Coin purse please,” she said expectedly, holding out her other hand and beckoning with a finger. Sabrina took a step forward and timidly untied the purse from around her own waist.

“I… I carry this for Lady Chloé,” she murmured and quickly deposited the purse into Ladybug’s waiting hand. She then took a step back and ducked behind her mistress’ skirts. Chloé looked ready to burst, and her cheeks turned to scarlet.

“Sabrina!” she yelled, “That. Purse. Is. Expensive! You cannot just hand it over to these heathens. Especially not people who are making me late for my dinner with Prince Adrien tonight.” She stamped her foot on the ground with a resounding thud as she yelled. “I demand you return my purse at once!”

Everyone ignored her.

“Is that a wrap then, m’lady?” Chat Noir said, hoisting the sack with the money over his shoulder. Ladybug nodded, but then appeared to change her mind as she glanced over at Chloé one more time. She smiled somewhat spitefully as she looked the girl over.

“I want your dress, the one you are wearing right now,” she said plainly.

“What?” Chat Noir looked at Ladybug in surprise. They usually just stole the money and other expensive trinkets before disappearing. What would she even need with such a hideous yellow fabric?

“ _What?!”_ Chloé’s face twisted and turned to thunder. She took a step towards Ladybug, whose hand strayed dangerously close to her dagger as a warning to the girl. Chat Noir caught his partner’s eye, and she gave him a wink.

“I am happy to undress you myself,” Ladybug continued, “You don’t deserve something so finely made if you are going to be rude to those who made it. Besides, spare cloth is always useful, and you are wearing enough layers to clothe half the palace.”

Chloé gulped as Ladybug tapped the hilt of her dagger, waiting impatiently. She clicked her fingers at Sabrina who moved behind and started undoing the ties to the dress with shaking hands. The ghastly fabric soon fell to the ground, and Chloé stepped out of it, turning her back on Ladybug and sticking her nose in the air. Ladybug scooped up the fabric with a grin and a small bow.

“Thank you so very much for your time,” she said, “your contribution to the effort is much appreciated.” She nodded to the driver and Sabrina in turn and then bowed to Chloé once again before turning on her heels and sauntering into the trees.

Chat Noir loitered around the carriage for a few more moments, helping both Sabrina and Chloé up the steps before making sure the driver was able to steer them back to the palace without fainting himself and then followed Ladybug’s path through the overgrowth.

Even though there was no sign of his red-hooded partner, Chat Noir knew where she had been headed, and it was easy for him to pick up on her trail. He liked to pretend that this was because they were soulmates and he instinctively knew where she was at all times. But that was childish fantasy, for, in reality, she was following the same route they always took.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had unofficially claimed an abandoned cellar for their own, the only remains of what they assumed had been some sort of house once upon a time. It was only a stone’s throw from the Kwami Pass but hidden by the thick trees of the forest to most passers-by. Small slithers of sunlight crept through the gaps in the leaves, bathing the whole place in an eerie green glow. The entrance to the cellar was hidden by a moss-covered trapdoor, and he followed as Ladybug jumped down into the dark.

The cellar had become their hideaway and storeroom, the place where they stored all the money they stole from the wealthy aristocrats that journeyed back and forth from the palace. Then, once a week, they combed through and counted everything before delivering it to the most deprived areas of Parigi ready for taxes in the morning.

That night was always Chat’s favourite. Where he and Ladybug would just talk about anything and everything, or walk in comfortable silence around the town in the dark. It was as easy to be around her as it was to breathe.

There was just one problem.

He had absolutely no idea who she was under that hood.

It had been one of the conditions that he had set out when they first met way back when the only things they had worn to conceal their identity from each other had been a cloak and scarf. They had bumped into each other on the Kwami Pass and Ladybug had distracted a driver while he had stolen some trinkets from the trunk at the back. She had then confronted him, making sure that he was not stealing for selfish reasons. He could still remember how she had stormed over and kicked him hard in the shin when he wasn’t able to provide an answer she approved of. The bruise had been there a week. She had pulled out the coin purse that she swiped from the driver, explaining that her family was in debt and needed everything that she could manage to get. She didn’t appreciate someone taking her spoils for fun.

Afterwards, Ladybug had taken him to Parigi, and they had walked for hours through the streets. He had watched as she gave the coins she had stolen to the beggars and children who were wearing little more than sacks. By the time they returned to the forest, she only had a few coppers left but told him how the gratitude on the people’s faces made everything worth it – even if she had to go without this time. She knew she had it better than many others. She was lucky. He had never experienced anything like that day before, and it touched him.

At that moment, on the Kwami Pass under the low hanging trees, the boy who would one day become Chat Noir had looked at the girl destined to become Ladybug and made a promise to her, himself and all the people that lived in suffering in the town. He would help, and if this was the only way either of them could for the time being, then that is what he would do. She agreed, making the difficult decision to trust a stranger.

The two of them were near unstoppable from that day forward. Combining their skills in archery, combat and charisma, they stole from the rich and gave to the poor. They became heroes to the people of Parigi and stories of their heists spread across all Francia. The people once again had hope and could look forward to happier lives, free from scrambling in the dirt for the spare change needed to pay their taxes.

But they knew that no one must know their real identities. Ladybug and Chat Noir were vigilantes, existing on the wrong side of the law. The guards would go after them and their families if they found out, and then what would they do? Of course, he had another reason that he kept close to his heart, knowing that everything would change the second Ladybug found out who he really was. He never wanted to see that look in her eyes.

Chat Noir smiled as he watched Ladybug dump Chloé’s dress on the small table rather unceremoniously and lent across to light the single oil lamp in the centre. It flooded the small room with a dull orange glow, causing the coin pile in the corner to glint softly.

“Another _purr_ -fect heist completed,” he drawled, smirking at her proudly as he dumped the sack containing the days loot onto the floor. Ladybug rolled her eyes once again, her usual reaction to any of his puns which was soon followed by a small delighted laugh.

“They are practically giving their money away,” she said, “it’s almost too easy, we have not even had a proper fight in weeks now.”  

“I think it is our formidable reputation,” Chat Noir said, reaching into the sack and pulling out one of the coins. He flipped it into the air, just missing it as it came down and clattered onto the floor. Ladybug laughed again.

“You and I are just that good,” she said

“That we are.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently as they both grinned at each other, hearts beating fast and just enjoying the adrenaline rush following a job well done.

“Though, we could have been done a lot earlier than this if _someone_ hadn’t been so late this evening!” Ladybug said after a moment, her tone playful.

“My utmost apologies m’lady,” he said, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, “there was quite the _cat_ -astrophe back home, and it was rather unavoidable.”

“Sounds positively _paw-_ ful,” Ladybug ventured, eyes lighting up as she attempted the pun and looked to him for confirmation that he had understood it. Chat Noir gave her a firm nod of approval.

“Very good. Though I feel that we could do with a little more practice, don’t you?” he asked, “Maybe this time tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here,” Ladybug said, nodding, “Just as I always am, but tonight I have to run. My parents are going to be wondering where I am if I do not return soon.” She flashed him another smile, squeezing the hand she was still holding once more. Chat smiled back, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back gently. “I wish I could stay longer, we can count up the money tomorrow?”

“I have some time before I will be missed,” he replied, “I’ll get it all done now before I go.”

“That is so lovely of you.” She dropped his hand and leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck in a brief hug. He squeezed her waist tightly, then reluctantly let her go.

“Don’t forget to take the dress with you,” Chat Noir said. Ladybug’s face twisted into a grimace as she reached for the bundle of fabric. “Would love to see you in it one day.”

“I think red is more my colour, don’t you?” Ladybug replied, winking at him.  “I’ll see you tomorrow Chat,”

With that, she climbed up the rungs of the ladder, out of the cellar and disappeared out of view with a wave. Chat Noir was left to count the money alone, with a happy, satisfied, smile on his face. 


	3. Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tikki is a darling, Plagg is probably napping and Marinette gets cornered.

Ladybug left Chat Noir at the cellar and ran swiftly through the woods, taking a couple of shortcuts through the trees. It wasn't long before she arrived at a grand house that sat on a small plot of land just outside the Parigi town gates. She hopped over the dry-stone wall that surrounded the property and, tucking the dress she was carrying through the strap of her quiver, scaled the ivy-clad wall up to the window that had been left open specially for her. Smiling, she slid into the house, pulling the shutters and curtains closed behind her.

The room was cool, and the fire that had been burning in the grate when she had left the house had been reduced to a few orange embers. The only light aside from that came from candles that had been left lit in the hallway, not that shadows had ever scared her. In the centre of the room was a bed, where Ladybug's day dress had been set out nicely, with two cookies left on a plate next to it. She smiled, Tikki was always so thoughtful.

She dumped Chloé's dress on the bed and started to undress. First lifting her bow and quiver over her head and laying it gently on the bed where it was soon joined by her dagger and shoes. Then she pushed her hood back and pulled out the red ribbons from her hair, running her fingers through it to straighten it out. Her tunic and trousers were next as she quickly pulled off the clothes and let them fall to the floor. The last thing to go was the mask, and Marinette watched as she dropped the final piece of Ladybug, leaving the plain and ordinary baker's daughter standing in her underclothes.

Marinette yawned and pulled her day dress over her head, attempting to lace the bodice herself but to no avail as her tired fingers kept slipping on the ribbon. She was ready to give up and curse when her mistress walked into the room.

"Marinette!" Tikki cried, walking over to the girl. She removed Marinette's hands from the bodice and began to tie it up herself. "I thought I heard you come in."

Tikki was an older woman, with streaks of grey running through what was once vibrant red hair. Her big blue eyes sparkled with kindness and optimism, and she was wise, talented, and everything Marinette aspired to be. She was one of the most popular dressmaker's in Parigi, known across Francia for making several dresses for Queen Emilie and other highborn women. This included Lady Chloé, who had visited that afternoon. Tikki had turned two of the downstairs rooms into a workshop for her business, one filled to the brim with different coloured fabrics that soon became beautiful gowns with her seemingly magic touch. When Marinette had been younger she used to run bakery deliveries for her parents, she would beg Tikki to be allowed in to watch her work for a short while. Eventually, when she turned 14, Tikki had taken her on as an apprentice under the condition that she assisted in her parent's bakery every morning.

It had been Tikki who had first taught Marinette to use a bow and arrow and wield a knife, and the only person she had confided in about her double life. Tikki had helped her to make the tunics and the hood for both her and Chat Noir and had been an unwavering beam of support in everything that Marinette had ever done.

"You need to make sure you are not wearing yourself out Marinette," She scolded gently after Marinette yawned again and rubbed her eyes.

"I'm not, promise," she replied, shaking her head and smoothing out her skirt. She grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite, holding the other out to Tikki who took it with a sceptical look.

"You are waking up before dawn every morning, running deliveries for the bakery, then come here and work your fingers to the bone before gallivanting through the woods at twilight with that young man of yours."

"He isn't  _my_ young man," Marinette interrupted, trying to ignore the knowing smile on Tikki's face, "You do not need to worry about me, I have this all under control." She took a step towards the door, catching her foot in a crack in the floorboards. Tikki reached out and steadied her before she could fall, and she smiled sheepishly up at her. "Besides, I got more of that yellow fabric Lady Chloé wanted for her dress!"

"Oh?" Tikki said, looking over at the bed where Marinette had left it. She picked up the dress, "Good, this is her favourite colour and everything! I was running out, where did you get it?"

"If you don't ask then I won't have to tell." Marinette gave the woman a grin and ran her fingers through her hair again. Tikki's eyes widened in realisation, and she shook her head, pursing her lips for a second.

"I left some cloth and thread on the counter downstairs for you to work on that embroidery. You know the technique I showed you earlier?" Tikki said, swiftly changing the subject. Marinette nodded. "If you have the time before you go to sleep. Do not stress over it! There is a letter as well if you do not mind? Now, hurry home before your father is convinced I have kidnapped you."

Marinette walked over and gave the woman a brief hug.

"Thank you for everything Tikki, as usual," she said, and darted out of the door and down the stairs, heading home to her father's bakery.

**-x-x-x-x-**

On the northernmost end of the Kwami Pass stood the Grand Palace and it was to there that Chat Noir had been running as fast as he possibly could. He snuck around to the east, being careful not to be caught by any of the guard patrols and pushed open an old wooden door in the side of the Palace Wall that opened just behind the stables. With a precautionary glance to make sure that there was no one about, Chat Noir entered the stables and Prince Adrien, the quiet and weak heir to the throne who was totally oblivious to anything outside the palace's lavish grounds, walked out in a clean and crisp white shirt. He whistled gently to himself as he began to walk towards the east entrance, which led into the servants' quarters, only to almost trip over a cotter known as Plagg.

Plagg had been a part of the Palace staff for longer than Adrien could remember, supposedly taking care of the pigs or mucking out the stables to earn his keep. However, whenever Adrien saw him, he was always loitering around, taking naps in the hay pile, or eating a piece of cheese that he had swiped from the kitchens whilst petting the stray cats that called the stable home. His black hair was thinning, and there was always a particularly unpleasant smell that followed the man around. Nevertheless, he did happen to know a lot about the palace, including Adrien's 'other' activities and this had made them unlikely friends.

"Long day?" Plagg asked him, as he leant against the stable wall, not even bothering to move the food that had been in Adrien's way. He threw a piece of cheese up in the air and caught it his mouth, chomping noisily.

"Not long enough," Adrien replied. He ran his fingers through his hair to try and smooth it out a little, looking back at the stables longingly.

"This 'Ladybug' has stolen more than just Lady Bourgeois' dress huh," he commented with a lazy smirk, "your eyes, heart, innocence…?"

"Oh, do be quiet." Adrien rolled his eyes and pushed past him. The Servants' Hall was just across the courtyard from the stables, and he quietly slipped in through the entrance, greeting the maids he came across by name. He stopped a minute to hint to the cook's daughter, Alya, to serve some of those delicious dumplings he had loved for dinner tomorrow and then laughed when she brushed him off and flaunted her way down the corridor. No one was surprised to see him, they might not have had any idea about his alter-ego, but they silently encouraged the Prince's rebellion against the restrictions his father made him live by.

He discreetly pushed open the door into the main hallway of the Palace, and there was an immediate change of atmosphere. The room was lush and carpeted with ornate gilded leaves and flowers carved around the doorways and beautiful diamonds chandeliers. Although it had all amazed him when he was little, it now made Adrien feel sick to his stomach. He had done nothing to earn this sort of privilege and hated living in luxury when there were so many people on the streets of Parigi who could barely afford for their children to eat alongside their taxes. The staff of the palace were included in that, they worked long hours and only received two meals a day and the barest minimum wage.

Once Adrien was king, he was going to make so many changes to his Kingdom, but until that day he had to maintain the act of the dutiful, but ignorant, son.

He managed to get up to his room and slip inside the door without anyone important seeing him, and then collapsed back onto his four-poster bed. His eyes had barely closed for a second before he was interrupted by Nino, his manservant, walking exuberantly into the room.

"My lord!" he cried, "The King has requested you, they were almost sending out search parties!"

"Why?" Adrien sighed, "Nino, did you not cover for me?"

"I can only claim you have a headache so many times before they call for the Doctor." Nino shrugged his shoulders and began to fish around in Adrien's drawers for some fresh clothes. "You smell like the back end of a horse, so I am not going to ask any questions. But you should change before meeting the King this evening," he said, throwing the clothes he had found in Adrien's face. "I'll go and inform his Majesty that you will be with him shortly and he can call off the search!" And with that, Nino cheerfully left the room before Adrien could even respond.

Adrien reluctantly dragged himself up and quickly slipped into the clothes that Nino had graciously picked out for him. He took his time getting to the King's private offices and dawdled about a little before knocking on the tall, oak door twice. The low, bitter voice that had been controlling his every move since birth beckoned him into the room, sending shivers down his spine.

The room that his father had taken for conducting business was a stone-cold display of wealth. There were no rugs on the floor or decorations on the walls, save for a tapestry of the Butterfly family crest and a portrait of his mother at one end. Dotted around the room where several of Francia's priceless jewels, locked away in cases, including the Ceremonial Crown and his father's everyday circlet with the butterfly pattern encrusted with rare purple musgravite stones.

King Gabriel, himself, sat at his desk, paper and ink out as he continued to write some sort of letter to someone who was no doubt important. He was a tall man, with hollow cheeks and ice blue eyes that bore a hole straight into you. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and Adrien couldn't remember the last time that he had smiled.

The young prince stood before the King, hands behind his back and head bowed as he feigned the respect he had lost long ago. There were a few minutes of awkward silence before Adrien mustered the courage to speak.

"Father?" he said, clearly and carefully, knowing that Gabriel wouldn't want him to stutter. Stuttering was for the common folk, those with less money, poise and brains, in the King's opinion. "You sent for me?"

"Yes," he replied after another moment of silence had passed, "I have made plans for your Name Day celebrations."

"Oh?" Adrien had just assumed that they would have had another pointless ball where he would be forced into dancing with a number of ladies that he didn't particularly care about to appease their fathers, the same as every year.

"You will be 18, Adrien, and it is about time we prove that you have become a man capable of being the King of this country one day. Germania has already begun to put the pressure on, and I am not going to be around to cover for you forever," Gabriel continued. Adrien bit the inside of his cheek but tried to keep his expression blank. "So, I have declared a King's Tournament. All the royal families will be invited, and it will be open to all who wish to take part, as per tradition. There will be 3000 gold pieces for the winner, which will be you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

"There will be balls and dinners in honour of the guests that you will be required to attend.

"Yes Father," Adrien said. That was part of the tradition, a feast to welcome the guests and the contestants in the tournament, a huge ball before the last round, and then a celebration at the end to honour the champion. He would have to be around for every evening meal as well, considering the elite nature of the people Gabriel was planning on inviting.

"And at these events, you will get to know the princesses that are of suitable age. We need to find you a wife, Adrien. Someone who will strengthen the country, preferably," Gabriel continued, a hint of frustration in his voice." Come autumn, you  _will_ be married. The Germanian or Italian Princess if you do well."

Adrien knew all the children from the royal families. They had grown up together at various parties in the different countries, but he could never imagine spending the rest of his life with any of them. He wanted to marry someone he loved, someone who was his equal. He was not ready to be a part of his Father's schemes and plans.

"And if you happen to blow it with any of them, Lady Bourgeois intentions here are apparent. Naturally, she is not the first choice, but her father approves the match."

"I am not marrying Chloé!" Adrien burst out, interrupting. Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

"You will do as you are told," he stated, calmly. "Lady Bourgeois is a suitable candidate, and she is highborn. We are going to aim higher than that. You may go now."

With that, Gabriel looked back down at the letter he had been so meticulously writing and didn't acknowledge Adrien again. Adrien just bowed once more to his father, more out of habit than respect, and took his leave, walking back to his own room as he thought over the conversation.

He knew he should be grateful for what he had and hated feeling guilty every time he thought negatively about his life. There were people out there having to make life or death decisions and his only concern was the prospect of getting married to someone he didn't know or love.

When he was Chat Noir, he would look at the families in the town. The way the children would play in the village and run around, doing odd jobs and errands for their parents before going home to a warm hug and a smile. They didn't have a lot, but everything was shared, and there was a lot of love in the people's hearts. Adrien would happily give up everything he had in his life for a mother's touch or a father's nod of approval.

Once he was in his own room again, he sat down on the window ledge and waited for Nino to bring tea to his room. He looked out at the clear night sky and counted down the hours and minutes until he could don the mask again and see the only girl he knew that he would ever dream of marrying.

**-x-x-x-x-**

The bakery was fully active and alive before even the cockerels had begun to crow and the sun began its journey across the sky. It was a regular day for Marinette and her parents, who started preparing the bread, cakes and pastries from scratch for the shop, making sure that not a speck of flour was wasted and racing to see who could fill a tray with bread rolls the fastest. Marinette won, but her father, Tom, claimed she had been cheating due to 'tiny hands.'

Marinette's next chore was taking a selection of the freshly baked goods up to the Palace, so they were ready for breakfast. It was a sense of pride for their family, as it wasn't as if the Palace did not have its own Mill and Ovens. It had been Queen Emilie who had often frequented the Parigi shops and had loved Tom's Bakery so much that she had requested that she always wake up to one of his bread rolls every morning. Even after her death, the order had never been cancelled and so, without fail, a member of the Dupain household would make their way to the palace kitchens to deliver the goods.

The walk along the Kwami Pass towards the Palace was always enjoyable for Marinette, as she dragged her little wooden cart along the worn-down path. She managed to reach the Palace gates by the time the sun had fully emerged from the horizon and the world looked bright and brand new as the light reflected off the dewy grass. The Palace courtyard was as busy as ever, servants running around to make sure that everything was prepared for the day ahead.

Plagg the Cotter was already taking his first nap of the day in a cart full of hay. He didn't stir from her pokes or shakes and only opened half an eye when she tossed him a couple of slices of cheese bread. She tucked the letter Tikki had entrusted to her into his pocket for safe keeping, receiving a pat on the shoulder from the man as he then grunted and rolled over.

She continued over to the Servant's Hall, tossing some extra cookies to a couple of children that played near the entrance with a grin. Alya, the Chef's daughter and someone who had become one of Marinette's very best friends, was waiting by the door as per usual to help her carry the crate through the corridor and down to the kitchens.

"You will never be able to guess what happened when Lady Chloé returned to the Palace yesterday evening!" Alya had exclaimed, immediately recounting the events from the previous day. Marinette giggled, one hand covering her mouth. "After they had finished taking all the money and the regular things Ladybug took her dress and made her ride home in her underclothes. They were all filthy. I should know because I was the one who had the misfortune of washing them. Sabrina was too shaken up for such a task." She laughed, placing the back of her hand against her forehead in an overdramatic swoon. "I wish I knew why Ladybug of all people wants her dress, it was singlehandedly one of the worst pieces of fabric I had ever seen in my time working here!"

"Who knows," Marinette had replied with a shrug, having to bite her lip to stop from grinning.

"Well, Lady Chloé came barging through the main entrance of the castle and basically demanded that she be seen to straight away. Sabrina must have run around the entire Palace five times before she managed to find the selective group of servants that were allowed to see, though literally everyone who had been down there had done and there was a crowd beginning to form because of all the commotion. So, she was all dressed for tea, and Prince Adrien requested that he eat in his room, he didn't bother to show his face downstairs at all last night. Lady Chloé was redder than a tomato, you could see the steam coming out of her ears!"

"Is the prince still sneaking around the servant halls?" Marinette enquired, having zoned out a little at the mention of Prince Adrien. Alya's stories about him were always her favourite.

"Almost every day," Alya replied, "He uses it as an escape route several times, not that I blame him."

The two girls entered the kitchen then, cutting the conversation short. Marinette stayed a little longer, helping Alya and Mrs Césaire to unpack the crate and set up some of the breakfast trays, enjoying the company.

Alya and her mother were from a far-out island named Martinica. Her father had moved them all to Francia on a whim and then died from a mysterious illness, leaving them with nothing. Marlena Césaire, taking a five-year-old Alya and a story of tragedy with her had gone to the Palace looking for work. As luck would have it, they had needed extra help in the kitchens that day, and she had been allowed to help out in exchange for a meal. She ended up staying longer and took over as the Palace's head cook two years previously.

There had been other children at the palace the same age as Alya, and she had grown up happy and as comfortable as someone in her position could possibly be. She had easily blended into the Palace service staff as she had got older as a way of earning her keep and was quick-witted and observant enough to keep herself out of trouble.

Marinette loved her morning visits here. There wasn't the same sort of feeling as down in the town – where everyone was struggling to stay afloat as best they could. They all had rooms here, food to eat and their uniforms were provided by the King. Although it was hard work, and they ran the risk of putting a foot wrong in the Palace itself and being cast out with nothing, they strove to maintain a happy and jovial atmosphere when the King had his back turned.

Though soon she had to return to her chores and began the walk back home with her purse full of the coins that Mrs Césaire had given her. She picked up a letter from Plagg, promising to bring him more cheese bread the next day and then walked happily out of the Palace grounds and back along the Kwami Pass.

She had barely been walking for 10 minutes when she felt something in the trees, her first thought was that Chat Noir was there, but the movements weren't subtle, and their feet clanked against the ground. A man came out of the trees, blocking her path, his eyes roaming the young girl's body greedily. She didn't recognise him, but the stale odour and his mean expression had her clenching her fists and getting ready for a fight.

But how was she to fight? She didn't have her bow or her knife. Ladybug could have probably taken this man down in minutes with a few well-placed kicks, but Marinette wasn't Ladybug unless she was wearing the hood and the mask and at that moment she was trapped – her feet glued to the ground, forbidding her to move or run. The fear beginning to paralyse her as the man laughed, seeing her terror. She closed them briefly, forcing herself to take a deep breath as the man stomped towards her. Ready to meet the man's gaze, and at least attempt to put up some resistance, she saw something over his shoulder.

A guardian angel with beautiful blond hair and eyes that shone a gorgeous green.


	4. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien lies and Marinette has an idea.

Adrien had awoken far too early that same morning, and he was up and dressed before Nino had come in to check on him. His servant had just bowed and made some comment about how traditionally breakfast wasn't served until after the sun had risen, smirking all the while and making Adrien laugh. He clapped Nino on the shoulder and told him that he felt like a walk before breakfast anyway.

Pushing all thoughts of the conversation with his father to the back of his mind, Adrien quickly slipped out of the room and followed the familiar route through the Palace and out of the side door in the Servant's Wing. The courtyard outside was already buzzing with the morning activity as the Palace Staff went about preparing for the day ahead. They were far too busy to pay him any attention other than to bow quickly or apologise for being in his way, which he always preferred.

He headed towards the stables where, just as always, Plagg was munching on some cheese bread as he sat on top of a pile of hay, pouring over a letter.

"Tikki is annoying sometimes," he commented as Adrien walked closer, "a letter every morning and she knows I can't bloody read." He finished off the letter and licked a couple of crumbs off his fingers before running his hand on the grubby shirt he was wearing.

"Oh really?" Adrien gave him a small smile. The look on Plagg's face was not one of annoyance, but instead, it was pure admiration. It was a look rivalled only by the expression he got when Camembert was on offer.

"I can recognise my name and her name," he huffed, squinting at the letter, "Is that not enough?"

"She writes to you almost every single day, I cannot believe you haven't put in the effort to learn to read what she sends you," Adrien said, leaning back against the stable wall.

Plagg snorted.

"Not all of us have fancy tutors from Cina teaching us how to read and write in seven different languages."

"Three languages," Adrien corrected. He held up his fingers and pinched the top of each one as he spoke, "Francese, Inglese and Cinese."

Plagg snorted again, muttering something insulting about rich people and royalty under his breath that Adrien pretended not to hear. He had tried to teach Plagg how to read a couple of times, but reading required dedication and hard work – two things that Plagg certainly was not prepared to make time for, even for Tikki.

Adrien flicked open the letter and began to read it out loud.

" _Dear Plagg, I hope all is well with our masked friends as well as with you. I feel that it has been many years now since we have spoken face to face and I wish we could forgo this restrictive communication for the sake of a real conversation…"_ The letter went on to talk a little about Lady Chloé's dress order and the health of a man named 'Wayzz' and some other people Adrien had never heard of and then signed off in the way it always did. " _I sent Marinette with some cheese bread for you. Please do not eat it all at once and upset your stomach. Yours always, Tikki."_

Plagg rubbed the crumbs off his mouth and pulled an inkpot and quill pen out of his jacket, handing them to Adrien so he could write a reply on the back of the letter and send it back. The responses were hardly as eloquent as Tikki's writing, but as meaningful and as heartfelt as the cotter could be. A brief sentence stating how he missed her, a summary of how Chloé had appeared at the Palace Gates in her underwear and it finished up with

" _The cheese bread was good, as always, make sure you tip them extra next time. Thank you, Plagg."_

Adrien folded the letter neatly and handed it back to Plagg, who nodded his thanks and shoved into his pocket and resettled himself on the hay to wait for the messenger to pass by again. He then took his leave, walking through the stables to the small door in the palace wall at the back, jealousy swirling around in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted the bond that was so clear to see between Plagg and Tikki. Someone who would make his eyes light up with every letter and give him a reason to wake up early in the morning. Someone who would know all his secrets and hopes and dreams. But it looked like he wasn't going to get that option.

He was half considering putting on his mask and hood, wanting a complete break from being Adrien for a bit, but there wasn't that much time until he had to be back at the palace. Being Chat Noir came with other responsibilities, being a hero and a criminal, and Adrien honestly felt as if he hadn't the energy to cope with that.

The door in the palace walls was neglected, and the wood was beginning to rot. It led to an overgrown path that wove through the undergrowth that surrounded that side of the palace and then re-joined the Kwami Pass about 100 yards from the gates. It was a path Adrien had walked countless times, and he wandered along it now, not really thinking properly about where he was going. Naturally, his thoughts involuntarily drifted to his father, and about taking part in a King's Tournament and then about having to get  _married._  The tournament would probably be fine, he knew enough not to embarrass himself, having been trained in hand to hand combat and archery since birth and all the running around he did as Chat Noir every night equipped him well for the race aspect.

Maybe Ladybug would spar with him for practice, she could give him archery pointers as well. That girl had a more natural talent for a bow in her little finger than most of his father's professional bowmen. It was a shame she didn't showcase is as much as she should.

The prospect of marriage was different, it wasn't as if he could train or practise for that. It was supposed to be a partnership built on love and trust, not just a political alliance with the first princess who would have him or worse, a marriage to Chloé, who may have the highest social standing in the land but also flaunted it and rubbed it in everyone's faces. A trait that would undoubtedly only become worse if you allowed her access to a crown.

Chloé had been the only friend his father had approved of when they were little. With Lord Bourgeois continually staying at the palace to assist the King, the two of them would run around and play together during the long meetings. As they had grown up, Chloé had become spoilt and bratty, and although Adrien still valued her friendship, it was becoming harder and harder to appreciate her when she was draped all over his arm. So, he found it best to avoid her as much as possible and if they were to get married, those days would be over. On top of that, he would have to provide an heir to the throne. He shivered. The thought of mini Chloé's running around the palace was enough to give him nightmares.

Adrien's stomach rumbled, signalling that he should probably turn around and head back home to eat something. With a reluctant sigh, he spun on his heels and started to head back the way he came.

He saw the man first. A stocky chap whose broad shoulders heaved as he laughed cruelly. His hands were big and meaty, and he looked ready to grab the girl who stood in front of him at any second. Adrien met the girl's pretty blue eyes over the man's shoulder and froze.

She was a peasant girl, that much was clear, wearing a dress that had been torn and mended multiple times with different fabrics. She was slim, with black hair braided into a crown on top of her head and a couple of strands falling into her eyes. Her feet were glued in place, unable to move, and her expression betrayed her fear.

Adrien knew he had to help her. Taking a deep breath, he walked behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, Sir," he said, coughing slightly, "May I be of any assistance here?"

The man jumped, obviously not expecting some boy to come creeping up behind him, and he sneered, not taking his eyes of the girl.

"Mind your business," he snapped, leering at her.

"I'm sorry, but I believe you are bothering the lady," he said, trying to channel Chat Noir which was easier said than done without his mask on. The girl hadn't moved, eyes flicking between Adrien and the man with her hands clenching into fists.

"She has something I would like." The man smirked.

"I don't, sir," she said, voice shaking, "just a cart that my father made, it's worthless."

"The pretty coin purse tied around your waist says otherwise," he said, striding towards the girl and placing a finger underneath the purse, "and you have other… assets." His eyes roamed over her figure, and he licked his lips, bringing his finger up from her waist to her chin slowly.

The girl gasped, flinching backwards out of the way. Adrien took the opportunity to grab one of the branches from the floor and went in for the attack. Drawing on his training and experience, he managed to surprise the man and get in a couple of good hits – one to the side of the face and one to the stomach – before there was much of a reaction.

The man lashed out with one hand, pushing the girl out of the way and she stumbled over the cart and fell to the floor. He turned and sneered at Adrien, blood beginning to seep from the wound and trickle down his face. Adrien stepped forward with the branch and narrowed his eyes, preparing to attack again, but the man quickly decided a few coppers and a mere slip of a girl was not worth the effort. He slunk back into the trees. Coward.

"Th…thank you," the girl stuttered as Adrien tossed the branch to the side of the road and walked back over to her slowly. She looked at him with wide eyes as he helped her to her feet, the colour returning to her cheeks. "Who… who are you?"

Adrien gave her a small smile and scratched the back of his neck with one hand.

"Just a friend," he replied, "are you alright?" He looked her over once, checking to see if she had been hurt or injured.

She nodded slowly, wrapping her arms around her stomach and looking down, shivering a little.

"I think so. At least I'll be alright now."

"Here, let me walk you the rest of the way home," Adrien said. She still looked shaken up as she spoke softly, stumbling over her words.

"No! I can't let you do that. I will be fine, you don't have to worry!"

"Just to the gates of the city then," he said, reaching over and taking the rope that pulled the little wooden cart from her hands, "for my own peace of mind. That man may still be lurking somewhere." He began walking then, waiting for the girl to follow him.

"Sorry, I'm putting you through so much trouble," she said.

"Not at all," Adrien turned his head and gave her a sunny smile that he hoped would be reassuring and her cheeks flushed. "What's your name?"

"Marinette," she replied, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Adrien recognised the name immediately.

"Dupain-Cheng… as in Dupain-Cheng Bakery? Ahh, you must be the baker's daughter who brings Plagg the cheese bread every morning!"

"Yes, that's me," she said, her eyes widening a little at his sudden realisation.

"Plagg is a friend of mine," Adrien explained, "It's nice to finally meet you properly. I know Plagg looks forward to your visit every morning."

"He only looks forward to me visiting because he knows I bring food and he is greedy," Marinette said, tucking a few of the loose strands of hair behind her ear. "So, you work at the Palace then?" Her voice was still quiet, and she was stuttering, but she spoke with a bit more confidence than before at least as she began to relax.

"…Yes."

"You have the same name as the Prince."

"Well 'Adrien' is a fairly common name around these parts." He gave a small chuckle and nodded.

"That is true," Marinette said, brushing her fingers down her skirt. She was suddenly very self-conscious of the fact that it was covered in dirt and flour.

"So, you have the misfortune of visiting the palace every morning?" Adrien asked, running his fingers through his hair and fluffing it out a bit.

"For the bakery, I palace to the delivery," she said, thinking the words over in her head and deciding that that didn't make much sense. "I bakery for the delivery," she tried again. Marinette's mind was freaking out, still reeling from the shock of almost being attacked. The heroic blond boy walking next to her wasn't helping her to keep her thoughts straight either after saving her and then walking her home like this. "I like coming to the Palace."

"Well, I adore those little bread rolls," Adrien's eyes lit up, "and those pastries you bring, with the raisins?"

"Are they not for the royal family? You ate them?"

"I may have been known to swipe one or two things from the kitchen while no one was looking." He gave her an abashed smile.

"I cannot decide if it is brave or foolish to steal food from Mrs Césaire's table."

Adrien chuckled at Marinette's concern.

"How about both?"

They continued the rest of the walk to the town gates amicably, some of it was spend walking side by side in a silence that grew more comfortable every minute and the rest in idle chatter about things such as life at the bakery and living at the palace, both sides giving vague but interesting stories. Adrien had a couple of tales about Lady Chloé's antics the previous year when the Arabian Prince had been visiting. One of which ended with soup drenching her hair and shoulders, which had them both in hysterics for a short time.

Adrien was enjoying it, even though he was beginning to feel guilty about misleading the sweet girl about his occupation. It was funny how their paths had never met before, even though she had been frequenting the palace for a while now and they knew many of the same people.

But right then, they weren't Prince and Baker's daughter. He was just a boy who happened to run into a girl and was now walking her home like the gentleman he had been raised to be. A chance to be a different person, if only for a little while, and he was going to embrace it.

"I wish I could attend a ball," Marinette had said towards the end of their walk. The conversation topic had turned to that of events and Adrien had casually mentioned that there were going to be a few parties at the palace over the next few weeks and it would be nice if Marinette's father could provide the treats for dessert. Her eyes had glazed over dreamily, and she let out a small sigh, "All the pretty dresses and the dancing…"

Adrien snorted in a manner that was not unlike Plagg when it was suggested to him that the cotter lay off raiding the kitchen's cheese supply.

"They are incredibly dull, trust me," he replied, elaborating quickly at her confused expression, "Madame Sancoeur, the Chief of Staff, made me a footman once – when the palace was busy, and there was a shortage of servants around."

"Ahh," Marinette said, "Maybe it's more fun to attend as a guest?"

"Unlikely. They are throwing a King's Tournament alongside the Prince's birthday this year, so any Ball's the King throws in a few weeks are going to be a dreadful bore with lots of pompous knights from the other kingdoms."

"A King's Tournament? Do you know what they have set as the prize for winning this time?"

"3000 gold pieces… if I heard correctly," Adrien added with a rush. Marinette let out a small, dreamy sigh.

"Wow," she said, with longing in her voice, "I wouldn't even be able to imagine that amount of money."

"Not many could," Adrien said, with bitterness in his own tone, "But it is nothing to the King, and naturally the Prince will be expected to win…" he trailed off as he noticed the Parigi gates; the sign that he should probably take his leave. He had to walk back to the palace and Marinette would be safe once she was in the town. Plus, he was getting kind of hungry, and he was supposed to be training straight after breakfast. He turned to look at her, reaching out his hand to pass her the rope of the cart. Their fingers brushed against each other's gently, causing them both to jump and the rope to fall to the floor.

"I'm sorry!" Marinette all but leapt backwards out of his way. Adrien laughed, bending down to grab it and passing it to her, making sure she had a firm grasp on it this time before letting it go.

"Do you think I could walk you home again tomorrow?" he asked. He had enjoyed this short walk, and it had proved to be the perfect distraction from his worries, but Marinette shook her head.

"You will be busy at the Palace, and I would hate to take up too much of your time. Taxes tomorrow morning as well," she said, "I will have to rush home to support my father."

"If not tomorrow, another time then?"

"Yes! I would like to see you again!" Marinette blurted out, "If you want to, I mean you don't have to obviously and it would be fine if we don't. But it would be nice."

Adrien picked up Marinette's hand and, without thinking, gently pressed a kiss to the back of it. The simple action stopping her ramble midsentence and her cheeks burnt red.

"Until next time," he said.

"Um… yes." Marinette pulled her hand away quickly and turned to scurry through the gates, not trusting herself to look back at him for fear that she might actually melt into the ground.

Adrien waited until she was out of his sight, hoping that he hadn't offended her in any way, and then turned to begin walking back along the Kwami Pass back to the palace, very much aware of the space where the young baker's daughter had been stood before.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Marinette ran back to the bakery as fast as she could. She passed her parents, giving them a quick smile as they stood behind the counter making sure everything was perfect for when the shop would open soon and shouted that she was just going to freshen up before she started helping. Lifting her skirt with one hand, she quickly climbed the ladder up to her little bedroom and flopped back on the bed, a small smile plastered on her face.

Adrien wanted to see her again.

Adrien, who worked at the Palace, protected her from the bad man and walked her home and kissed her hand, wanted to see her again.

She stayed in her bedroom for as long as she dared, daydreams quickly forming about her golden-haired saviour. But she was needed for chores, so when her mother called for her, she managed to drag herself up, splash a bit of water on her face from the jug in her bedroom, and join her parents down the stairs.

Unfortunately, her good mood was all but shattered when she almost burst into the conversation her father was having with two very well-dressed gentlemen. They both had fat cheeks and shirts that were bursting at the seams, showing off exactly how much money they owned between them. Marinette opened the door a crack, listening in to the conversation.

"… 3000 gold pieces in the next six weeks or the Dupain-Cheng Bakery will have to be closed," one of the men said, his voice coated in faux sympathy, "and I would hate to do that to you, Tom, I really would."

"But," the other man replied, seemingly bored of the conversation as he picked up one of the small cakes, that were sat neatly on the counter, and took a bite. "We do own this building, and by extension, we own you."

"All those years of hard work, so sad," the first man continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "what father signs a contract like this?"

"I don't even pretend to know what that contract even is," Tom, Marinette's father, growled angrily.

"We have explained," the bored man said, "the building was yours for one generation. Your daughter will be the same age as you were when your father put you into this debt in the first place. Thus, your time is now up. Six weeks is far too generous in my opinion. Be grateful." He rolled his little piggy eyes and walked back out of the bakery without a second glance, dropping the cake on the floor for Tom to pick up.

The remaining man looked at Tom and sighed again, the note of pity in his voice contrasted with the greed in his eyes.

"For your wife and daughter's sake, I do hope you find the money. But alas, the sands of time are falling, and 3000 gold pieces is a lot more than many men can dream. And with it being Tax Day tomorrow…" he tutted a couple of times, "I will see you in six weeks, Tom," He bowed his head and walked out of the bakery. Tom leant against the wall, a temporary moment of weakness. Marinette's mother, Sabine, who had been stood behind the counter listening to the conversation, walked over to him. Marinette did she same.

"Papa?" she said quietly, resting her hand on her father's arm.

"I'm sorry Marinette… Sabine…" Tom pulled both women into a brief hug and walked and walked out of the bakery to get some fresh air and clear his head. He was trying his best to stay strong, but Marinette knew that the bakery barely made the equivalent of 10 gold pieces a week, and the majority of that went on supplies, such as flour and kindling for the oven.

The Dupain Bakery had only managed to open when Marinette's grandfather had taken out a loan from Mr Roth. When Tom married Sabine, Sabine's father had invested in the business, and they had renamed it to reflect his kindness. Tom, his father and Sabine had worked the bakery together until her grandfather's death just after she was born. But they had had no idea how much trouble they were actually in. Her grandfather had missed a lot of payments, and the interest was over ten times the amount that they had withdrawn in the first place. Any and every spare penny they had gone into paying the loan off, but it had barely made a dent. There was still far too much to pay, and Mr Roth's sons had decided to come collecting.

3000 gold pieces were too much money, and it was cruel to expect that. No matter how hard Tom worked, or the extra laundry Sabine took in, or even Marinette's overly generous apprenticeship wage from Tikki, could even come close to reaching that number.

"Your grandfather was a good man," Sabine said, "He did everything for Tom and his family. This whole place is a testament to that. There were no better circumstances for them at the time."

Marinette nodded. She believed the words, and there was no point in wishing for things to have worked out differently.

"Mama?" she asked, "What will happen to us?" Sabine kissed her forehead and pulled her into her arms, stroking her hair gently.

"Tikki will take you in Marinette, I'm sure," Sabine said, "She will give you a place to live and food in return for your services. Your future is secure."

"But you and Papa?"

"I still have family in Cina, we will manage," Sabine said, but Marinette knew that she was trying to convince herself as well. She touched Marinette's cheek once and walked off to complete her own chores.

Marinette leant back against the wall, trying to think of something, anything, she could do to help. Chat Noir and Ladybug's hoard wouldn't even come close to covering it, and Ladybug had further responsibilities to ensuring the most vulnerable of the townsfolk did not end up in debtors' prison. She wasn't allowed to be selfish.

3000 gold pieces were enough money to set a man up for a lifetime, without even having to work. It was extortionate, a stupid amount for any one person to ever earn. It was…

It was the prize money for winning the King's Tournament.

At least that was what Adrien said, and she, like everyone in Eurasia, knew how the tournaments worked, and she was  _good_. She was  _Ladybug_.

She had an idea.

It might be one of the stupidest ideas she had ever had. It was foolhardy, but there was no other option, and she had nothing to lose.

The tournament would be soon, with a prize. And that prize would soon belong to Ladybug.


	5. Favours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tikki does Marinette a favour and Chat Noir agrees to help Ladybug.

"Just give me one good reason why I shouldn't at least try!" Marinette exclaimed indignantly as she sat on the floor of Tikki's workshop room, carefully pinning the hem of Lady Chloé's new dress together so it could be sewed. She had a couple of pins threaded through the sleeve of her own clothing and was supposed to be concentrating hard on the task at hand. Instead, her mind was wandering all over the place, and she was surprised her fingers weren't staining the yellow fabric crimson due to the number of times she had pricked herself, but then that might have been an improvement to the design. Nevertheless, an order was an order, money was money and Marinette was hardly in a place to complain about it.

"I could give you several," Tikki replied as she deftly sewed black lace to the bright yellow sleeves of the dress. She glanced down at the young apprentice with a worried expression, but spoke, as she always did, with a fair and quiet tone that was full of the wisdom that Marinette had come to appreciate. "Do you want me to list them? First of all, what if somebody discovered that you were Ladybug?"

Ever since Marinette had arrived at Tikki's house that morning, she had been excited to share the half-baked plans she had been making. A King's Tournament was going to be announced soon, and she could put on her mask and costume and enter as Ladybug, knowing her alter-ego would have the skills and stamina to be in with some sort of chance. She could win the tournament, anonymously pay off her father's debt and life could go on as normal.

"Why would anyone suspect that Ladybug, Parigi's most wanted thief and saviour of the poor, is Marinette, the baker's daughter and dressmaker's apprentice?" Marinette said, stopping what she was doing and rocking back on her heels to glance up at her mentor. She took the time to stretch a little. "No one would laugh or underestimate a masked vigilante either."

Tikki let out a small sigh.

"You do not have to do this, I would never let you or your family starve," she dropped the sleeve and knelt on the floor in front of Marinette. "All three of you would be very welcome in my home, for as long as you needed." She rested a gentle, calloused hand on Marinette's arm.

"My father is too proud for that, he won't want to accept charity and… they do everything for me. I repay them by lying about half my life all the time. At least this way there is a chance that some good could come of it," Marinette replied quietly, choosing to look down instead of meeting Tikki's eyes. "What sort of person would I be if I didn't at least try?"

Keeping her dark blue eyes fixed on Marinette, Tikki sighed again, speaking calmly but firmly.

"A King's tournament is an entirely different situation to robbing a carriage. You will have to figure out how to declare without being arrested. And in the unlikely event that King Gabriel will accept your declaration in the first place, there will be balls and dinners that all participants are expected to attend, and you have no experience. On top of that, you would have to keep your mask on and your hood up the entire time to conceal your identity.

The race isn't merely running from A to B, it's cross country through the Parigian Woods with traps every five metres. You will be competing against Knights that are twice your size and are not afraid of cheating in the darkest parts of the trees where no one will hear you scream. You have never needed to wield a sword or mace or shield in your life! Let alone fighting those who were born with a with a weapon in their hand and the archery… well…" Tikki was turning slightly red as the words rushed out and she took a breath, "I can imagine that you would do pretty well."

Tikki had been the first one to introduce Marinette to a bow and arrow. When she had first employed Marinette has her apprentice, she had taken her out to the home-made targets in the garden as a short break from work. Marinette had a keen eye and excellent aim, and so, with a few weeks of practice, her talent absolutely shone through. Tikki had never met another archer with such a natural skill.

"That is one section out of the three sorted then! And I run a lot in the forest, that must count for something," Marinette said, stubbornly optimistic as she folded her arms across her chest and looked at Tikki. "Chat Noir is good with a sword, he can teach me some moves."

"Marinette, you are not going to become a master swordsman in less than a month."

"I can try."

"And then you could die." Tikki's calm and composed expression began to falter. "In the tournament for Prince Adrien's name day, at least 25 contestants didn't make it past the first series of traps in the race and what would I tell your parents?" She ran her fingers through her hair, the stress visible on her face. This time, it was Marinette who placed a gentle hand on her Mistress' arm.

"Please Tikki," she said, "you know I have to do this." The more Marinette thought about it, the clearer the path was becoming in her mind. What use was becoming Ladybug, if she couldn't even help the people she loved the most?

"You are no longer a child Marinette, and I am not your mother. You do not need my permission, but you will always have my support. No matter what stupid decisions you make." Tikki nodded and pulled Marinette into a brief hug with a slight smile.

"Thank you," Marinette murmured into the fabric of Tikki's dress. She pulled back and turned her attention back to the hem of Lady Chloé's dress. Tikki stood and nipped over to a drawer, taking out some thread and passing it expertly through the eye of a needle that had been lying on the counter. They worked for a couple of minutes in silence, the only sound in the room was the ruffle of the fabric. "Now all I need to do is explain my absence to Father," Marinette mused out loud. Her thoughts distracted her, and she managed to prick her finger again with the pin she was holding.

Tikki didn't reply straight away.

"Well," she said, slight defeat in her voice, "I might be able to assist you with that."

"Oh?" Marinette looked up at her eagerly.

"I received a letter from Madame Nathalie Sancoeur, the head of the Palace Staff, this morning. The tournament is going to be officially announced tomorrow, but the invitations to all the Eurasian Royalty were sent last week, and they are expecting a great response. So much so, that they are drafting in extra help from all over the country. I had not decided whether I was going to accept or not just yet, however, if I were to say yes, I would naturally be bringing my apprentice with me."

"You mean that you could…?"

"I can give you a reason to be in the palace for a couple of months," Tikki nodded slowly, "and then we can work out a way to get you out to the tournament events while we are there. Being one of the most sort after dressmakers in the country has its advantages," she paused, giving Marinette a stern look, though with a twinkle in her eye, "not that I am encouraging this behaviour."

Marinette cut her off as she stood and flung her arms around Tikki's waist – the highest she could reach whilst kneeling on the floor.

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed.

Tikki chuckled softly and patted Marinette on the top of her head.

"Well, I cannot deny that it will be lovely to see Plagg again and I will have to get your father's permission," she said, "but for now. We need to focus, there is a lot to finish before I let you run off and meet that kitty of yours."

**-x-x-x-x-**

Marinette left Tikki's just before the sun began to set. She was exhausted. It had been a long morning at the bakery and an even longer afternoon working on Lady Chloé's new dress. She just felt ready to crawl into her bed at home and sleep, but she knew she didn't have that luxury.

She hadn't mentioned the altercation from that morning, or her golden-haired guardian angel, to anyone. It would only worry them, and Marinette didn't want to burden her parents or Tikki with that. Meeting Adrien felt like something she wanted to keep to herself for just a little bit longer as if it was a moment for her eyes only. He had been so sweet on the walk, the memory causing her to smile to herself as she pulled Ladybug's outfit from its hiding place under Tikki's bed.

Discarding her day dress quickly in favour of her red tunic with the black spots and tying the mask over her eyes. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and watched herself as she pulled the hood up and over her hair, the last traces of Marinette fell away from her expression and posture. Ladybug stood tall and proud, and she smirked to herself as she strapped her knife to her waist and slung her quiver over her shoulders.

She was the first to arrive at the cellar that evening, and she slipped quickly through the door and lit the old oil lamp, the light bouncing off the coins that were piled up in the corner. The temptation was great, she couldn't deny it. It would be so easy to take all the money right then and run off to her father with it. Sure, it meant that some would get arrested, or others wouldn't be able to afford food that week, but maybe it would help save the bakery.

The selfish path would be so easy.

Though she knew when she donned the mask that she was Ladybug, and Ladybug belonged to the people of Parigi. She stole for them, and she could never let them down, not even for her own family. Marinette might be excused for being selfish, but Ladybug never could. Her shoulders suddenly felt very heavy, and she slumped against the cellar walls, resting her head in her hands.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, my lady." A familiar voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and a smile immediately appeared on her face as Chat Noir dropped through the trap door and landed gracefully next to her. He knelt in front of her and took her gloved hand, pressing a gentle kiss there. "Forgive me?"

Ladybug let out a small chuckle, focusing on her partner and pushing all the stressful thoughts out of her mind for a moment. She used the hand he had taken to pull him to his feet, running her thumb over his fingers before pulling away quickly and placing both hands on her hips.

"Always," she replied softly, watching as the light glinted off Chat's mask and his bright green eyes, full of the kindness and humour that she always admired, met her own.

"Allow me two shakes of a cat's tail before we set off," he said, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, "it has been a long and eventful day."

"Same here," she said, trying to keep her tone light and teasing, "but you don't see me needing to take a catnap whilst we have work to do."

"You wound me." Chat Noir groaned and then grinned at her shamelessly, "I could have died this morning and several times this afternoon come to think of it. I fought them all off, just for the chance to be by your side once again."

"And I am most grateful for that," Ladybug said, amused. She took his chin between her finger and thumb and turned his head to face the coins. "Let's save our people first and then you may tell me all about your little playfights."

Chat Noir nodded, and the two of them began their usual routine, working side by side and exchanging quips as they piled as much money as they could carry into sacks. Then they left under the shadow of the trees, thin ribbons of moonlight lighting the journey they had completed so many times before. The money weighed them down, but the strain on their shoulders could never compare to the joy on a man's face when they received the money – and it was that thought that powered them on.

Parigi's town gates were closed at the twilight hour by two wardens that Marinette knew by name. They were always letting her in when she returned from Tikki's house late at night and were at the top of her bakery delivery list when she made her rounds each morning. They prided themselves on their job, inspecting everyone who wanted to travel in and out of the town after dark. When Ladybug and Chat Noir approached the gate, however, they were left slightly ajar, allowing the two thieves to slip inside easily. The men themselves were stood facing the opposite direction with their hands behind their backs. One of them would always be holding a list of people who needed their help the most. They weren't sure who made the might for them, but knowing they had the support of the people who were struggling to keep themselves out of debt really meant a lot to them.

Careful to stick to the shadows of the streets, avoiding those who were loyal to the crown and those who would arrest them on sight, they walked through the town as quietly as they could. They knocked on the doors of the little wooden shacks and houses and handed out a few coins to the occupiers. Just enough to pay the tax, they hoped, with a bit of leftover for food. Ladybug lived for the hugs and the little treats and sweets that the people had saved especially for them. The tokens of gratitude that showed that what she was doing was making a difference.

They only paused for a moment to play a quick game with some children who had been allowed to stay up and meet their heroes, and eventually arrived at the last stop on their usual route around the town – Marinette's bakery. Tom and Sabine stood outside their home with two of the left-over cookies from that day, ready to greet Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug emptied the rest of her coins from her sack and pressed them into her father's hand. It wasn't much, definitely not enough, but she tried.

As they turned to leave, heading back to the hideaway to leave the sacks and then return to their real lives, Sabine called out tentatively.

"Ladybug, if it isn't too much trouble, my daughter is working late at the dressmaker's house outside of the town. Would you see her home safe?" She looked at them with soft, wide eyes and Ladybug nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak but allowing a quick smile before turning and disappearing between the houses.

Once they had left the town and begun the walk back to their hideaway, the two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. They didn't always need to talk, perfectly comfortable in each other's company but something that night didn't feel completely right to Ladybug, and she stopped Chat by placing her hand gently on his shoulder, the reflection of the moonlight gleaming dully on the leather of her gloves.

"Chat, you know you can talk to me," she said gently, "what's wrong?"

"I know I can," Chat Noir replied, giving her his signature lopsided smile that never failed to make Ladybug's heart melt slightly. He held her gaze for another moment before his shoulders slumped. "I had an awkward conversation with my father yesterday, that's all. He wants to marry off by the autumn." He stumbled over the words, and she was unable to help the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Oh?"

"It's my 18th name day soon," Chat continued, "So I'm going to be a man and a man needs a wife. I don't want to be committed to someone I barely know, and the only alternative to that isn't worth thinking about."

Not for the first time, Ladybug wished she knew more about who Chat was under the mask. He had often spoken of his duty to his father with a heavy heart, and he was trapped, unable to be himself without the mask on. Selfishly, she was almost pleased that the caring boy with the outrageous sense of humour was something for her alone, but she wished for his sake that he could be himself and make his own choices. She wished she was in a position to help him.

"For once, I wish I got a say in it," he continued, holding her gaze and scratching the back of his head. "Find a nice girl, someone I could fall in love with, and settle down and have a family. Like they do in the fairy tales."

"I understand," she said, listening to all he had to say attentively and then adding a joke, trying to make him smile. "I'm destined for a life of spinsterhood, so at least you are doing better than me!"

"Oh my lady, you jest." Chat smiled at her. It wasn't a full smile, but it was good enough. "Who wouldn't want to marry you?" He added those last words quietly, and Ladybug dipped her head to hide the slight pink hues that appeared on her cheeks. "So," he prompted, "there is something on your mind as well?"

"Just…" she tried, frowning as she struggled to get the words out, "you know my family is in debt and my father may end up in the debtors' prison or they are going to be cast out in the streets in six weeks. The only chance I have to stop this is to win a tournament at the palace, against the best knights in all Eurasia and I am little more than a 17-year-old apprentice. I must beg a favour from you Chat Noir," she looked up and met his gaze, the words had tumbled out before she could stop them.

"Anything," Chat replied instantly, and Ladybug knew he wasn't exaggerating by saying that either. He had already proved countless times that he would do anything for her and she hoped he knew that that was returned.

"The tournament for the Prince's birthday, I need to enter."

Chat grimaced. He had only just been told of the tournament himself and already heard about it too many times that day. Mostly from the knights in his afternoon training session who reminded him constantly that a poor performance would bring dishonour on the Francian Crown. And now Ladybug wanted to take part as well? He couldn't help but scoff at that.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "It's not as if you would be robbing carriages or going for a light run."

"I know," Ladybug replied, that was something Tikki had attempted to put across to her numerous times.

"And you held my sword once and almost beheaded me," he continued.

"Is that not the point of hand to hand combat?" she rebutted dryly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well… yes."

"That's why I need a favour," she said, "I need you to train me. I can shoot an arrow, and I can run. I just need to be able to fight."

Chat nodded slowly as she spoke. It was true that Ladybug was one of the most amazing archers he had ever met, and she was small and quick which would give her a slight advantage compared to some competitors, but he still was not entirely convinced.

"Please, I need to try."

One look into her blue eyes and pleading expression gave him the answer.

"You know that your wish is my command," he said, knowing that he would become anything she needed in a heartbeat. His own emotions may have been mixed, but that didn't matter. His ego had been stroked because his lady wanted his help and came to him. He didn't want her hurt, and that was a genuine concern if she was serious about entering the tournament. It didn't even cross his mind as she spoke that she may come across him as Prince Adrien and that would open the door to a whole new problem.

His words had caused Ladybug to smile broadly at him, and she gently wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him to her tightly. Chat responded by slipping his arms around her waist and squeezing her.

"Thank you," Ladybug whispered as she pulled away and looked up at his face, completely content in his embrace, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Always," Chat said, reluctantly letting her go and watching as she turned and walked away from him, vanishing into the forest.


	6. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Prince Adrien lives his life and is late for things.

Apparently, it was bad manners to base your entire daily routine around being as far away from the Palace as much as was possible, but somehow Adrien just could not bring himself to care. He was enjoying the remaining weeks of freedom before the tournament, even if it meant sacrificing a few hours of sleep here and there.

He would wake early, just as the sun began to peek through the gaps in his bedroom's heavy red curtains and push himself out of his bed immediately. He didn't even pause to snuggle back into the cushions for fear that he may fall back to sleep. There was a jug of water that Nino refreshed every night, next to a pretty decorative bowl, where he could splash water on his face and rub some of the colour back into his cheeks. He dressed plainly in a simple white shirt, ignoring the royal regalia with a quick glance of disdain, and ran a brush through his hair to neaten it up.

Nino would usually have arrived by this time, bringing in the breakfast tray that contained Marinette's bread rolls, among other meats and cheeses. There was enough food on the plate for at least three men to have a hearty breakfast, so Adrien snuck the cheese into his handkerchief for Plagg and split the rest of the meal with his servant. They joked and laughed a little as they ate, with the ease that came from years of friendship.

As was the Francian tradition, Nino had been chosen from the Parigian orphanage to be raised as Adrien's personal servant soon after the prince was born. He had grown up next to the prince, learning how to attend to his every need while being fostered by one of the Palace servants. Nino had never known any other life, and although he could leave if he wished, palace life was a lot more desirable than joining the ever-growing number of beggars on the Parigian streets.

After they had finished eating, Nino would begin his morning chores and turn a blind eye to Adrien as he quickly crept out of the Palace, through the servant hall as usual and headed over to the stables to deliver the cheese into Plagg's gleeful, greedy hands. Their typical morning conversation would occur, consisted of Plagg gloating about cheese, fussing over Tikki and grumbling about the amount of effort his workday would require. Adrien wasn't convinced that Plagg did any actual work, but maybe napping in the haystack for hours on end was exhausting. Adrien just let the cotter rant for a bit, helped him write his letter for Tikki and then went on his merry way towards the Kwami Pass.

He usually beat Marinette to the gates and waited for her a little way into the forest as he had done since the first day they had met. He had taken to walking her down the pass after completing her delivery, and he hoped that the two of them were becoming good friends. The only issue was that she still didn't know he was the Prince and he hated keeping the secret from her, but he was afraid that telling her would ruin everything.

Marinette would always look slightly surprised when she saw Adrien waiting for her, but she greeted him with a smile that lit up her entire face and a cookie that she had saved from the cart especially for him. He would eat it slowly, savouring every mouthful, and then take the rope from her and drag her cart back down the path as they talked. Adrien had discovered that she was prone to stuttering and occasionally messed her words up, something he put down to a shyness that he found adorable and amused him greatly. He enjoyed pushing her buttons and making subtle comments to see the different reactions of Marinette's incredibly expressive face.

Once he had hugged Marinette goodbye and seen her safely through the Parigi gates, Adrien would run back to the Palace, hopefully returning in time for his combat training drills in the Palace Arena. His father's knights worked the younger boys furiously through their paces, training with their fists and then moving on to work with swords, spears and a variety of other weapons. It didn't matter to them that he was the son of the King, they were under orders to make him learn by any means possible. He ended each session with new black and blue patches all over his skin. He could perform at the expected standard for his age, but that was never good enough for his father.

Many of the ladies from the court would come down and watch the knights train. They would sit in the wooden stands of the Arena behind fans and under parasols and watch and giggle at the men. Lady Chloé was often among them, pale blue eyes fixed on Adrien greedily. She would pounce on him as soon as they were finished and drag him to wherever lunch was being served that day, either in the Great Hall or if weather permitted, Chloé was fond of having picnics outside in the gardens.

Sitting with Chloé was not Adrien's favourite way of spending his lunch hour, but he could have worse companions. She may be bratty and bitchy at times, but at least she could hold a decent conversation. If she hadn't been there, he would have been forced into sitting with the more distinguished members of the Court, mostly middle-aged lords who weren't bothered with anything beyond expenses or the next meal, and it proved somewhat tedious. Chloé, at least, usually had gossip to share concerning other members of Eurasian royalty and aristocracy that she was all too willing to share in between talking about herself. She had recently found out that the Italian Princess had rejected the heir to the Bretangna throne and that would keep her occupied for at least half an hour.

The worst part of his day, and sadly it was completely unavoidable, was where Adrien was forced to sit at his father's right hand while the King held meetings and audiences with anyone deemed important enough. It usually started with, consisted of, and ended with discussions of money, expenses and taxes as if they were the most important things in the Kingdom, with foreign relations pushed as an afterthought. It was never a discussion, the King just calmly explaining what he wanted to happen and everyone else being duty bound to figure out how to implement it. Alternative suggestions were not welcomed.

There had been a slight deviation lately, with talks about the upcoming tournament, the plans for which had been laid weeks before Adrien had any knowledge of it, and how they were going to house and entertain their guests. The majority of the countries would be represented, including members of the different royal families, and it had been emphasised to Adrien regularly that it was essential to make a good impression on as many as possible – especially those who had daughters around Adrien's age. They knew the Italian's were being very picky when it came to picking a suitor for their eldest daughter, who was currently at the top of the list due to the wealth and strong reputation of the country. Adrien's personal choice was quickly discounted when he remarked that all the portraits he had been shown looked 'nice.' He had been subject to several lectures about the importance of finding a good match to strengthen the kingdom and who looked 'nice' was the least of their worries. King Gabriel hadn't spoken much during that particular incident, but the look he gave his son had spoken volumes of his disappointment. So, Adrien vowed never to speak up again in any of his Father's meetings and stared straight ahead in stony silence.

He would escape as soon as possible and usually mess around with Nino until dinner, either going for a short ride or partaking in some extra training. Adrien would eat and excuse himself as fast as was polite, and then, as the dusk began to settle, he would sneak out of the Palace for the second time that day and rush to the stables, donning the mask and hood that turned him into Chat Noir.

Sometimes Ladybug would be there before him, entirely focused on the rudimentary target he had once carved into a tree for her, with her bow drawn and firing arrows with pinpoint accuracy. Or she would have her dagger drawn and eyes closed as she practised the moves and drills she had learnt. That was his favourite time to sneak up on her.

As quietly as he could, he would walk up behind her and gently pinch her waist. Ladybug would jump a foot in the air, then immediately spin and retaliate. They would spar for a couple of minutes until he relented, usually when she had managed to pin him to the ground with her knees locked on either side of his torso and his hands pinned above his head. He would offer her a trademark smirk and say something along the lines of,

"Well m'lady. If you wanted me in this position – all you had to do was ask."

And Ladybug would laugh and roll her bright, blue eyes and maybe flick his nose with her finger before jumping to her feet and offering her hand to pull him up, and their lesson would begin.

The two of them had often sparred if they had a spare moment just so they were prepared. Ladybug was good with her dagger but being up close and personal with her partner often let her down. Her aim when throwing her weapons was almost as perfect as when she was using her bow. All the skills she had transferred well into wielding a sword although she was clumsy with the weapon at first and found it difficult to get enough power behind the blade to do any sort of damage. Although she was improving with every training session, they didn't have the time for her to fully master the skills. Chat spent a lot of his time worrying about the fact that if she made it through the first two rounds of the tournament, she would be facing people who had been training in the field their entire lives.

The two of them had also stepped up their fame with the robberies. With the tournament looming ever closer, more and more carriages full of rich people were venturing to and from the palace. Easy targets for the two thieves. They even ventured onto the Ocean Road a few times and the roads that led into Parigi from the south to make sure they were as prepared as they could be for the next month's tax days. They would then sort out their winnings at the hideaway and depart in different directions.

Adrien would then ditch Chat Noir at the stables, immediately feeling the loss of his alter-ego and his partner, and make his way straight up to bed, often falling asleep before his head touched the pillow. He had honestly never been happier. His friendship with Marinette grew sweeter by the day, and he treasured his ever-strengthening partnership with Ladybug.

His days were good, but Adrien knew as well as anybody that good things never last forever.

**-x-x-x-x-**

There were five days left before the official opening of the tournament, and many of their guests were due to arrive that morning. Adrien knew he should be hanging around his room and waiting to be called down to the Throne Room to greet them, but he couldn't resist sneaking out to go and visit Marinette one last time before the chaos started.

Marinette was thrilled to see him, as she always was, and immediately launched into talking about the trip she was taking with her mistress. She had mentioned it a few times, but Adrien couldn't for the life of him, remember where exactly she said she was going and felt that the time had passed where he could comfortably ask about it. So, he just listened to her as she rambled nervously about the whole thing and encouraged her whenever she stopped to take a breath.

"I'm sure you will be amazing Marinette," he said as they neared the end of the Kwami Pass. He turned her towards him, noting the slight pink colour in her cheeks and pulled her in for a brief hug. She stretched her arms around his waist and gave him a gentle squeeze in return. "And I'll see you soon, right?"

"Of course!" Marinette nodded eagerly, "If you like to, I mean I hope we will if that is what you want..."

"I'm looking forward to it," Adrien said, interrupting her rambles," I'll see you soon, I promise." He gave her a gentle shove towards the Parigi gates and gave her a little wave before turning and darting back to the Palace as fast as he possibly could.

Plagg was there to greet him as he walked past the stables to the servant's entrance. The cotter was loitering next to a bale of hay, no doubt avoiding the chores he had been told to do that morning in favour of petting a pretty little black cat that was purring in his arms. He glanced up at Adrien with an expectant grin.

"I'm hungry," he said, "Got any Camembert?"

"I gave you cheese this morning," Adrien said, folding his arms.

"Yes, but it was Brie," Plagg said with a note of disgust in his voice, "and I know there was Camembert this morning on the trays this morning 'cuz I saw it. But that woman interfered before I could swipe anything."

"Mrs Césaire caught you snooping around the kitchens again, did she?" Adrien replied dryly, raising an eyebrow at Plagg. The older man just huffed and sat down on the hay, yawning and stretching with one hand. The cat nuzzled his cheek and settled into his lap comfortably.

"I demand Camembert for my silence you know," he said, turning up his nose and muttering 'Brie' under his breath as if it was the dirt beneath his feet. "I know your secrets, cat boy, sneaking out to see your girlfriend every morning instead of training."

"Marinette is not my girlfriend," Adrien countered, gritting his teeth, "and she's not even going to be around for a while, so I don't have a reason to come and bring you anything anyway." He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. "Who would you even tell? Do you even have friends other than Tikki?"

"Maybe I can tell that guy. The one who has been skulking around the palace door waiting for you." Plagg yawned again and gestured vaguely towards the palace. Adrien glanced over at the door and sure enough, his father's servant, Nooroo, was stood there scuffing his feet on the ground and shooting nervous glances at Adrien.

"Did you not think it would be a good idea to  _lead_  with that?" he hissed at him and turned around to walk over to the palace doors, ignoring the mumbled comments about how Plagg was hungry.

Nooroo was a small man, around the same age as Plagg. Wisps of curly blond hair framed wide violet eyes and his skin was pasty and pale. Once upon a time, he may have been considered handsome, but now his shoulders were hunched, cheeks were hollowed, and dark bags sat under his eyes. He had been the King's personal servant since they were boys, like Nino's position, but somewhere along it had become more of a master and slave relationship, and now the man barely left Gabriel's shadow unless ordered.

Adrien didn't look at him, he just walked straight past and into the servant's hall. Nooroo followed, something in him not allowing him to speak unless he was directly addressed, and his eyes darted around nervously as if he was unable to focus on one object for very long. The man grabbed the back of Adrien's shirt, muttering something under his breath and causing Adrien to scowl.

"What is it?" he snapped, spinning around and glaring at Nooroo. He brought his arm down to detach Nooroo's withered hand from his shirt. Nooroo flinched and pulled away hurriedly, pressing himself against the wall of the corridor and looking down at his feet. Guild built up in Adrien's stomach, and he placed his hand lightly on Nooroo's bony shoulder, speaking in a far gentler tone. "I'm sorry," he said, "What is it you want to tell me?"

"His great majesty requests that you join him in the Throne Room, my lord," Nooroo said in his quiet, shaky, high-pitched voice, "You are to dress properly and join the court. His magnificence has been waiting for you ever since the guests first arrived and the search for you has been long, my lord, everyone else is ready. His gloriousness is not best pleased."

"His gloriousness is never pleased," Adrien grunted, taking a step back, "thank you Nooroo. Inform my father that I shall be there shortly." He dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand and watched as Nooroo quickly disappeared, skulking in the shadows. Adrien paused, about to follow and return to his room to change when Alya walked past, carrying a basket of washing down the laundry room. He subtly grabbed her arm to stop her.

"My lord?" she said, bending to curtsey, by no means a small feat whilst carrying the basket and having Adrien's hand on her forearm.

"What have you heard?" he asked her. Alya had always been a good friend to Nino and used to play with both him and Adrien when they were children. With her connections throughout the palace, she had become a valued ally to the Prince ever since he had started sneaking out of the palace, firmly approving of his somewhat rebellious behaviour. Alya always tried to maintain her distance from him, firmly aware of the consequences that might occur if they were to get closer than they were now.

"His Majesty wanted you in the throne room since the breakfast trays were collected this morning, but as you haven't been around, he's a few minutes shy of sending out search parties. Nino tried to cover for you, but you cannot expect him to lie to the King," she hissed slightly as she elaborated on what Nooroo had said. Her intuition acting as a sixth sense, always giving him the information he required without the need for him to pry.

"I'm sorry, Alya," Adrien said, wincing slightly under Alya's defiant gaze.

"It's not me you have to apologise to, my lord," she replied, shifting the basket, "Madame Sancoeur informed us that the guests have arrived at the palace and that we were all to be on our best behaviours. They were directed to their rooms to freshen up, but they will want to pay their respects to your father before too long. If I were you, I would make sure you are by your father's side before they are."

Adrien nodded, shooting the girl a grateful smile. He was about to dash when Alya spoke again, causing him to stop short.

"My lord," she said, "Marinette has been talking about your walks together." She raised an eyebrow at him, while Adrien looked at her and gaped. "Don't panic, your secret is safe with me. She just told me about a blond cotter who has been walking her home. There is only one blond named Adrien around here after all. Just please remember that Marinette is a good person and she does not deserve to be used as a prince's plaything."

Alya nodded and curtsied again, turning to continue on her way without a second glance back.

Adrien locked that bit of information away in his head for later, knowing that if he took the time to ponder on it now, he would never make it to the throne room on time. He sped up the stairs and slipped back into his bedroom.

"There is absolutely no time!" Nino exclaimed, greeting him at the door and ordering him to strip. Adrien just did what he was told, and Nino had him dressed in his formal clothes before he was able to take his next breath. His servant grabbed his brush and ran it through his hair, placing his gold circlet on top of his head. "You can make it up to me later. Go!" And before Adrien had time to blink, Nino had shoved him roughly through the door.

He all but ran through the palace to the throne room as fast as he could without bumping into anyone. The guard's that stood in front of the doors allowed him to catch his breath for a moment, struggling to hide their amusement at his stress, and then opened them to reveal the Throne Room and his father's cold expression. He was the last member of the Francian Court to enter the room, and all the benches were packed with lords and ladies gawking at him.

The Throne Room was easily one of the biggest rooms in the Palace, aside from the Ballroom and Great Hall. It was oval shaped, with stained glass windows that swept from the floor to an ornate ceiling, all depicting scenes from Francian history. The floor was stone, other than a red-carpeted aisle that ran from the door to a stage at the north end of the room. The King's throne sat on the stage, a beautifully carved golden chair with plush red velvet cushions. There were two slightly smaller seats on either side of the throne. One was reserved for Adrien, being the heir, and the other remained empty in respect for his mother, the queen. Extra chairs had been placed on the stage, ready for the royal guests.

King Gabriel was sat down, straight-backed and thin-lipped. He stared at Adrien, acknowledging his son coldly. The trumpets blew, the court stood, and Adrien walked along the aisle to his father, head bowed slightly in respect.

"His Royal Highness, Adrien, Prince of Francia," The announcer called, but the voice melted into the background. He didn't pay anyone any attention, though he knew that it had been Chloé who reached out to brush his hand as he passed her row and approached the steps at the foot of the throne. He bent his knee and bowed deeply to his father and king.

"Ah, Adrien," Gabriel said as he stood, placing both hands on Adrien's shoulders in a feigned display of affection, "I am glad you could finally join us."

"My apologies, Father," Adrien replied, keeping his voice and expression neutral.

"Where were you?"

"I decided to train this morning. With the tournament so close, Sir D'Argencourt has recommended that I fit in as much as possible. I went for a run and lost track of time." Adrien nodded, the lie slipping smoothly off his tongue.

"Ah," Gabriel hummed with a blank expression, leaving Adrien unsure whether he had bought the story or not. They were interrupted, however, by the doors opening at the back of the room before either of them could say anything else.

"His Royal Highness, King Frederick of Svezia and his daughter, Princess Myléne."

A tall, lanky man with brown hair walked towards the thrones with ease and confidence, leading his petite daughter by the hand. The princess had dark blonde ringlets, with colourful ribbons interwoven through the curls and a larger pink ribbon in place of a crown. She wore a blue dress with a light green muff over her shoulders. Adrien remembered her from a state visit to Svezia the previous year. She was kind and loyal, but couldn't say boo to a goose, and she certainly didn't deserve the way Chloé was currently pointing and subtly laughing at her outfit from her seat on the third row.

The two King's bowed to each other and shook hands with fake joviality. Adrien looked over at his father smiling and talking, putting on the act of a gracious and welcoming King, so he did the same and donned his 'perfect prince' persona by bowing to Mylène and greeting her with a winning smile.

They made awkward small talk for a moment. Myléne spoke of the arts program her country was beginning to fund, and he responded with idle chatter about his training for the tournament. Once that had dried out, he led the princess to the chairs at the side and returned to his own seat – ready to greet the next family.

It was a long process that had to be repeated with every guest that walked through the door. A slow parade down the aisle, everyone bowing and paying their respects to each other followed by a short conversation and then moving to the side to greet the other guests.

There were royal representatives from many of the neighbouring countries. Adrien recognised the majority of them, though it had been many years since they were all stood in one room together like this. Princess Rose of Germania had greeted everyone with glee and excitement, especially the Danimarka princess, Juleka, who had just smiled and allowed Rose to fuss all over her. Then there was Prince Ivan, the sole representative for Norvegia, who quickly wandered over to Myléne's side and stayed there for the rest of the proceedings.

Adrien was most familiar with the Bretagna delegates, who also happened to be his aunt and cousin. Queen Elizabeth had almost knocked Gabriel over with the force of her hug, throwing formalities out of the window as she looked him over and kissed him on both cheeks.

"Brother!" she exclaimed, loudly, "How positively delightful to see you again! It truly has been too long." Elizabeth was Adrien's mother's elder sister and had taken the throne of Bretagna around the same time that Gabriel had ascended to the Francian throne. She had always remained close with their family, making it a point to visit at least once a year even though Gabriel didn't extend her the same courtesy. Her son Felix, Adrien's cousin, shared the same blonde hair and green eyes that had run through his mother's line, though he had not inherited his mother's exuberance. Instead, he was withdrawn and greeted Adrien with a similar stiff, reserved formality that reminded him of Gabriel. He was soon pushed out of the way by Elizabeth, however, who wrapped her arms around Adrien's shoulders and squeezed him tightly.

"Ahh, Adrien! Look at you, you are so big now! I will be rooting for you in the tournament of course, after Felix. Though between you and me, I feel that my boy is more likely to be pummelled into the ground by some of those knights you have over here," she said in a stage whisper, with a wink.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence mother. I really do appreciate it," Felix said coolly. He met Adrien's eyes and raised an eyebrow. Adrien gave him an uncomfortable smile and scratched the back of his head as his cousin placed his hand on his mother's elbow and led her over to greet the others.

The guard cleared his throat, ready to announce the last of the guests. There were plenty of other people staying at the Palace for the tournament, but none significant enough that Gabriel and Adrien had to greet personally after this. Adrien had been privately counting down the minutes until he could be free and get as far away from the palace as possible for a few hours. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for the next announcement.

"His Royal Highness, King Antonio of Italia and his daughter, Princess Lila." The two of them walked along the aisle, holding themselves regally with their shoulders back and heads held high. There was no denying that Lila was an incredibly beautiful young woman, with soft reddish-brown hair and olive-green eyes that fixed on Adrien. She walked straight up to him and held out her hand to him, curtseying gracefully.

"Ah, Prince Adrien," Lila said, as Adrien did what was expected and kissed her hand. He immediately felt uncomfortable over the gesture, comparing it to the numerous times he had kissed Ladybug's hand in his head. He watched as her eyes roamed over his features and she gave him a quick smirk. "I am sure we will see a lot more of each other." He gritted his teeth and nodded.

"I will be looking forward to it."

Lila curtsied again and moved on to speak to Juleka and Rose, greeting both girls with a flick of her hair.

Gabriel let Antonio follow his daughter, greeting each of the Kings and Queens individually. He waited exactly 15 seconds before clapping his hands together. A line of footmen appeared and bowed, heads almost touching the floor.

"My men will lead you to your rooms," he announced, "allowing you to rest before dinner commences this evening. If you want anything, the staff will see to it personally. Nothing is too great a request."

There was an awful lot more bowing and formality as each guest took their leave of the throne room. Adrien shifted, mentally debating how fast he could get to his bedroom without being cornered by someone (and by someone, he meant Chloé who he could see eyeing him at that very moment). Gabriel exited next, leaving the Court in the hands of Lord Bourgeois, and Adrien quickly followed his father out of the room and up the staircase.

As soon as they were alone, the King turned around and looked at his son.

"You were late this morning Adrien. I don't care about your excuses, that is unacceptable behaviour."

"Father, I didn't mean to be late. I was…"

"I don't have time for this Adrien. Kings do not have excuses, and one day you will be King. You will not be allowed to disappear in the morning for hours, especially when we have a royal engagement such as this. Do you understand?" Gabriel said, his voice calm but forceful. It sent shivers down Adrien's spine.

"Yes Father," he replied, looking down at his feet.

"Nino will report your every move to me in the future. I want to know where you are and who you are with. When he is not around, Nooroo will be. If you are training or walking in the grounds, you will also have the Gorilla accompanying you. Understand?"

"Yes father," he said again, clasping his hands together and resigning himself to this fate, "I understand."


	7. Declaration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette and Tikki move to the Palace, Plagg is somewhat helpful, and a declaration is made.

Brie was a stubborn little Shetland Pony that Tikki had rescued from the Parigian Market before he could be sold on for meat. He had been caked in mud from his nose to his tail, with nasty tangles in his mane and open sores along his flank. The stubborn expression and the playfulness in the little pony's eyes and the way he pressed his nose into her bag looking for treats reminded him so much of Plagg that she couldn't bear to just leave him. So instead of coming away from the market solely with the rolls of fabric she had ordered, she returned home with a pony, a couple of harnesses and other accessories for him, and a small wooden cart that she paid extra to have delivered to her house.

Tikki spent hours treating Brie and nursing him back to health, and then any spare time she had aside from that was spent in the derelict stable block at the back of her house, clearing it up and making it into a suitable home for him to live in, with Marinette's help. The name had come about when Tikki had written to Plagg in a letter and asked him for ideas. Plagg had replied with a massive rant about how Adrien had brought him brie that morning instead of his precious camembert, ending it with a short sentence informing her that she should name the horse after him.

Knowing that Adrien was the one writing the letters in the first place, Tikki found this incredibly amusing. So, just to rub Plagg the wrong way a little, she made a joke in her next letter that the new pony was going to be named Brie, and the name just stuck. Once he was healthy, he earned his keep by carting Tikki and her supplies to and from the docks, market and further expeditions.

Currently, Brie was pushing his nose into Marinette's hands as she fed him a couple of the sugar cubes she had swiped from their kitchen that morning. Tikki had hitched him up to the cart and was currently stood at the opposite end, loading her bags, and listening to Marinette recount every detail of her walk that morning.

"And then he hugged you?" Tikki asked, giving her apprentice her usual warm, supportive smile.

"Yes," Marinette beamed, "he told me I was amazing and then he hugged me." After meeting with Adrien for the second time, she had caved and told Tikki all about what had happened there, and then told Alya the morning after that when she was in the Palace. It wasn't as if it was a secret after all.

Tikki gestured to a couple of trunks that currently lay on the ground next to her. They were full of material and dress supplies that she had decided that she couldn't possibly live without for a few weeks. Marinette fed one more sugar cube to Brie and walked over to help.

"You will have to introduce me to this boy when we get to the palace," Tikki said. Marinette's cheeks burned red.

"I will, but… well… he doesn't really know I'm coming?" she said tentatively, "I mean… I tried to say it and tell him but there was never a good time, and I don't know if it is right to just surprise him like this."

Tikki couldn't help but chuckle as they pushed one of the trunks onto the cart and bent down to pick up the second.

"You did not tell this boy that you are going to be staying in the same building as him for a month"?

Marinette groaned, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she thought back to all the conversations she had had with Adrien over the past few days.

"He just makes my thoughts jumble up," she said, tossing the remaining bags onto the cart with ease. Tikki smiled and walked over to her, kissing her cheek fondly.

"Oh Mari, you are adorable," she said, patting Marinette on the top of her head. It reminded her of when she met Plagg all those years ago. They had been a fair few years younger than Marinette was, but she had clear memories of fumbling over her words and of Plagg not being able to form coherent sentences. Ahh, the days of young love. Tikki smiled to herself – it was definitely funny how things worked out, even if Marinette didn't realise it herself just yet. "Have you got everything? Clothes? Dagger?"

Marinette thought for a second, mentally checking items off her list, and then smacked her hand against her forehead.

"My bow is upstairs! I'll be right back!" she called over her shoulder, already running back into the house.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Marinette could barely sit still during the short ride up to the castle. There were at least three occasions where Tikki had to stop her from grabbing the branches and swinging up into the trees completely out of habit. Tikki just shook her head, trying to remind her that she wasn't Ladybug at that moment and her da dress was an awful lot harder to run and climb about in compared to her tunic. She slumped back in her seat in the cart, knees still bouncing with nervous energy, fingering a tear in her skirt.

The guards at the palace gates recognised Marinette and greeted her cheerfully as they waved her and Tikki past. They sent a runner up to the castle and directed them to the stables where Brie would be housed, and the servants would be around to assist them with their bags.

Brie trotted proudly along the path towards the courtyard, where Marinette and Tikki were greeted with the sight of Plagg sprawled on a hay bale with his mouth half open. Tikki winked at Marinette and jumped out of the cart gracefully. She took a couple of steps over to the Cotter, lovingly touching his cheek, then giving him a hard jab to the stomach. Plagg yelped and fell to the floor. He looked up at Tikki with big green eyes and blinked twice.

"Good morning," Tikki chirped, smoothing down her hair, "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Marinette watched on with a smile as Plagg scrambled back to his feet and stared at her, trying to make sure she was actually stood in front of him. His face broke out into a grin, and he wrapped his arms around Tikki's waist, swinging her around as if they were both teenagers again.

"Tikki," Plagg said, setting her down again but leaving one hand on her back, using the other to tenderly brush her hair out of her eyes, "I can't believe you are actually here."

"Well, it isn't as if I never told you I was coming," Tikki replied, cupping his cheek in her hand.

"It has been far too long," he stated, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "did you bring any cheese?"

"I brought Brie?" Tikki paused, chuckling as the pony snorted and stamped his feet in impatience. Plagg looked at the horse then back at Tikki, completely offended at the thought of Tikki bringing him something as common as brie. Tikki just smiled. "…who might just happen to have camembert in his saddlebags."

"You are truly amazing." Plagg grinned, kissing her cheek this time and pulling away. He walked over to the horse, whipping out the cheese to shove in his pockets for later. Next, he turned to Marinette, gently lifting her down from the cart by her waist. "Little Miss Ladybug, I have something to show you. Grab your things."

It took Marinette slightly by surprise. She wasn't used to anyone other than Tikki knowing about her identity, although she knew that Tikki had shared that information with Plagg before, he had never acknowledged it while he was with her. It was a somewhat amusing coincidence that Plagg just happened to have a similar relationship with Chat Noir, and also frustrating that the two of them knew twice as much about both her and Chat than they did about each other.

"Don't worry, muss," Plagg continued, noting the girl's expression and hesitancy with a wry smile, "your secret is perfectly safe with me. Just like his."

Marinette nodded and ran around to clamber onto the back of the cart, fishing around for the bag with Ladybug's clothes and weapons in. Plagg helped Tikki to unhitch Brie from the front of the cart. There were many war and show horses visiting with the Royal envoys from all over Eurasia, so it was lucky that had been room in the stables at all. As it was, one block was a lot smaller and would have been no good for many of the magnificent horses, but it was a perfect size for the smaller ponies. It was basically a palace for Brie, compared to their small stable back home, so Tikki was confidence that he would be comfortable.

Plagg led Brie, Tikki and Marinette to the ed stall, striding confidently in and brandishing his arm.

"Well?" he asked, "what do you think?"

"It is a very nice stable," Tikki commented, running her fingers through her hair as she glanced around, "but what exactly are we supposed to be looking at here?"

Plagg just gave them both a grin, he handed Brie's reigns to Tikki and walked over to a pile of hay in the corner, crouching down and moving the hay around to reveal a trapdoor.

"The kitten has the same setup," Plagg grunted, gesturing for Marinette to come and place her weapons in the small compartment under the trapdoor. "I won't tell you exactly where though, I know you have that whole secrecy thing going for you. If anyone asks, you just have a good relationship with the pony."

Marinette did as he had bid, and turned to give the cotter a quick hug. Plagg gently patted her back, grunting again and worked with her to cover the trapdoor back up.

"Does Chat Noir mind you sharing all his secrets with me?" she asked, almost being able to picture it. Chat Noir sauntering down to the stables with his swagger, that cocky little smirk and messy blond hair falling into his startling green eyes. Her partner in crime was somewhere at the palace at that very moment, which she had known. The palace was the only thing north of the Kwami Pass after all. She may even have bumped into him there, but she doubted it. After all the time they spend together, she was confident that they would recognise each other instantly if they saw each other without the mask on. Marinette tried to push those thoughts out of her head. Chat had said himself how dangerous it might be for them to know each other outside of their work and that was what she had to stick to. Especially with Ladybug about to come out to the general public.

"That boy would probably faint just knowing that the two of you are in the same location," Plagg said, "I wasn't planning on mentioning it to him."

The three of them made sure that Brie was settled into the stall, then, with Tikki and Plagg hand in hand, they made their way back into the sunlight.

"There's a small door at the back of the stable," Plagg said, pointing it out, "Leads round back and there is an old door in the Palace walls that no one really knows about. It's somewhat overgrown, but you can use it to get in and out well enough."

"I can't thank you enough," Marinette said, making a mental note of the door and the locations of everything she would need to be Ladybug.

"Anytime kid, I'm happy to help." Plagg reached over and squeezed Marinette's shoulder as they exited the stables.

They were immediately greeted by a tall woman with black hair tied efficiently into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her mouth was set into a thin line, but her eyes were soft, and she stood with her hands behind her back, scanning them intently. She introduced herself as Nathalie Sancoeur, the palace's head of staff, and dismissed Plagg quickly with a wave of her hand and an order to bring the bags up to the palace.

"Anytime kid, I'm happy to help." Plagg reached over and squeezed Marinette's shoulder as they exited the stables only to be greeted by a tall, thin woman with black hair tied efficiently into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her mouth was set into a thin line, but her eyes were soft. She introduced herself as Nathalie Sancoeur, the palace's head of staff. Quickly, dismissing Plagg with an order to bring the bags up the palace, Nathalie started walking back, expecting them to follow her.

Tikki promised Plagg that she would return as soon as she was able so that they could catch up with each other properly, and she and Marinette followed Nathalie through the courtyard to the servant's entrance.

The stone walls were familiar to Marinette, she had been visiting the kitchens for a few years now, but she had to contain her excitement at being shown the different rooms that had previously been off-limits. Nathalie showed them both the servant's dining hall and the dressmaker's rooms, where they would be working for the duration of the tournament. She reiterated all the whole about how grateful they were to have someone of Tikki's calibre working with them at this challenging and busy time.

Nathalie showed Tikki to her bedroom personally, it being one of the bigger rooms near her own, whereas Marinette was directed to the top floor of the Servant's Wing almost as an afterthought. Luckily, she was on her own, though, in a tiny attic bedroom that was barely big enough for anything other than a little cot and a small set of drawers where a candle had been placed.

Unlike the rest of the palace, where the towers stood tall and menacing and could be seen for miles around, the Servant's Wing was only five floors. It ran along the east side of the building, practically hidden behind the everyday hustle and bustle of the courtyard and overlooked the stable block. It was built out of stone, and the ivy had crept right up to Marinette's window creating many handholds for someone to quickly climb up and down. Marinette was half tempted to try right then and there, but climbing down a wall In her day dress at midday might give off the wrong impression for her first day as a palace staff member.

Tikki appeared before Marinette could give in to her temptations, thrusting bread into her hands and told her to eat it as she dragged her down to the dressmaker's room.

If the dressmakers were put out by outside help being drafted in to assist them, it didn't show on their faces. They were a team of five women, all experienced and very much aware of Tikki's reputation, judging by the way they fawned over her. There were a couple of foreign women there as well, servants from the visiting entourages. Marinette was forgotten about and pushed into a side room with the other apprentices.

No one in the room spoke, and the atmosphere was making Marinette incredibly nervous as she sat on the floor darning garment after garment. They were only checked on by one of the women every so often, and that only resulted in them being shouted at and made to redo something they slopped up on. Tikki had tried to poke her head into their room occasionally, but she only had a chance to exchange apologetic smiles with her apprentice before being whisked away for another job.

The afternoon was long, and Marinette was pleased when they were finally excused for the evening and allowed to go down to dinner. Tikki was naturally snatched away by Nathalie and the head dressmaker whose name Marinette had already forgotten, and seated at the top table, so she went and found Alya instead. Her friend was incredibly happy to see her, giving her a hug before introducing her to some of the other servants she was sat with. There was Nino, a boy Alya had already told her an awful lot about, a redheaded boy named Nathaniel, an apprentice painter who seemed incredibly shy and reserved, and Max, a maths genius who was learning how to manage the King's accounts. Alya and Nino pointed a few other people out in the Dining Hall, the foreign staff, who to go to if she had a problem and who to avoid. They also told her stories of Prince Adrien, and of how he was late most mornings, Alya shifting a little in her seat. Marinette was incredibly grateful to them, but the whole thing suddenly felt so overwhelming, and she was glad when she could excuse herself to go and get some fresh air.

Once outside, Marinette ran down to the stables, changed and followed the path to the hideaway just as the sun began to set. Her partner was already there, his staff in hand and eyes closed. He went through the motions, spinning the staff around his head and bringing it down to the ground with a thud and a grunt. She watched as his chest heaved and he rubbed his forehead with that confident grin she knew all too well. Her gaze drifted along the defined muscles of his arms that strained ever so slightly against the confines of his tunic as he went to raise the staff once more.

Ladybug ditched most of her weapons by a tree and grabbed his discarded sword. She rushed out to meet his staff as it swung down for the second time and Chat Noir's eyes shot open in surprise. The moment of hesitation was all Ladybug needed to have him pinned to the floor with the sword nearly pressing against his neck within seconds.

"And hello to you, my lady," he said, smiling brightly at her, "as much as I would love you to stay on top of me, you are crushing my ribcage."

She giggled softly and jumped to her feet, offering her hand to pull him up.

"So, what do you think?" she asked, cocking her hips, "tournament ready?"

"I think you can knock me off my feet whenever you would like," Chat replied with a wink, "I have complete faith in you."

They looked at each other for a moment, both grinning broadly at the other before jumping back into the fight in perfect synchronisation, sword and staff flying as they went through each move. After a couple of bouts, their weapons were ditched, and they danced around each other with their fists flying.

When Chat managed to knock her to the ground for the third time that evening, he called it quits and left Ladybug grumbling about how he was only stopping the fight while he was winning. He laughed, going to sit by the tree and offering his leather water skin to her. She went and sat next to him, taking a long and deserved drink.

"Are you prepared?" Chat asked her after a few minutes of comfortable silence as they both got their breath back.

"Prepared for what?"

"The Tournament Declaration Parade in a few days," Chat reminded her, bumping his shoulder against her, "don't tell me you forgot? You know, standing in front of the King and being all 'I, Ladybug swear my fealty to my King etcetera, etcetera," he continued, mimicking her voice.

"I didn't forget," Ladybug retorted, "It may have slipped my mind for a moment though."

She bit her lip, thinking through her day. The declaration parade wouldn't start until hours after her own day had started so she would have to ask Tikki if there was any way she could cover her absence. That would mean that her mentor wouldn't be able to come with her so Ladybug would be making her public debut completely alone. She held back a sigh, worried about how she would manage without someone by her side.

"Ladybug?" Chat bumped her shoulder again, noting the change in his partner's demeanour, "it's alright to be nervous, and it isn't too late to change your mind about everything."

"I need to do this," Ladybug said, "I guess I just forgot that I would be by myself. Ladybug has never really had to be alone before."

Chat Noir didn't reply straight away. He reached down to take her hand, entwining their gloved fingers and squeezing gently.

"Well," he said, "I'll be there. So even though you will have to stand on your own, I'll be watching and cheering you on!"

"Really?" Ladybug asked, slightly surprised at his words though she considered herself foolish. She knew already that Chat worked at the palace, so naturally, he would be around.

"Yes," Chat nodded, "I'm declaring for the tournament as well."

"But I won't be able to see you?"

"I'm not declaring as Chat Noir, I'm declaring without the mask on. So I won't reveal myself to you." Chat's voice dropped low, and he leant towards her as he murmured, "I will always be there to support you, m'lady, even if you won't be able to see me."

Shivers shot down Ladybug's spine, and she ran her thumb over the back of his hand affectionately.

"Thank you, Chaton," she replied quietly, "you know, I am so lucky to have you. I could never have wished for a better friend than you." She pulled away and jumped quickly to her feet, brushing the soil off her tunic. "We better get going, those rich people aren't going to rob themselves after all."

Chat Noir sprung up next to her, and they ran and jumped their way through the trees towards the Kwami Pass, lying in wait for their next targets.

**-x-x-x-x-**

Marinette woke up in her little room at the palace after a fitful night's sleep a few days later. She could feel the butterflies swirling around in her stomach, and her hands were shaking with nerves.

Declaration Day.

She wished she could put her hood on right then and there. Ladybug was never nervous like Marinette was, she could control it. Marinette was currently a wreck, which she knew was stupid and irrational. All she had to do, after all, was walk out in front of the King, Court and other spectators, 80% of which she had probably robbed at one point or another and declare that she wanted to be a part of the tournament. It would all be okay and work itself out because she would be wearing the mask that turned her into the bold, brave, illustrious thief.

On second thoughts, this  _might_ actually be one of the most idiotic things she was ever going to do.

Steeling herself, she quickly dressed and slipped out of her bedroom and down the stairs and corridor to the kitchens where the cooks were currently preparing the breakfast trays.

Breakfast for the palace staff wasn't served so much as set out in the kitchen for everyone to help themselves. It was a combination of yesterday's leftovers with some bread and butter and allowed the staff to get on with their morning chores as fast as possible. Marinette was lucky in that Alya was already sat on one of the benches in the kitchen waiting for her, having grabbed some food for them both already. Alya grinned at her, glad to have caught her friend before she would have to help deliver the breakfast trays upstairs.

"Good morning!" Marinette said, sliding into the bench next to her and immediately tucking into her breakfast.

"Good morning sunshine," Alya said, watching Marinette practically bounce up and down with curiosity, "someone seems chipper. Could it be that you are turning into a morning person after all?"

"I do not know what you could possibly mean by that!"

"Oh please." Alya shot her a sceptical look as she took a bite of her bread roll. "A few weeks ago it was 'Alya it is too early to be carrying this cart up the path, and it's so heavy, and I'm going to die.' Then it was all 'oh I wonder if Adrien will be there this morning, he is so amazing, did you know he saved my life from the big and scary guy?" She clasped her hands together and mimicked Marinette's dreamy expression whenever Adrien was mentioned.

"I am not like that every morning!" Marinette exclaimed.

"Not all mornings, just since you have been meeting a certain blond…" Alya dodged the chunk of bread that Marinette tossed at her.

"I just have a weird feeling about today," she said, trying to change the subject, "I think that it will be good."

"Okay, okay, I'll believe you," Alya nodded, "So you haven't seen Adrien around yet?"

Marinette immediately looked around the kitchens, scanning the other servants who were in there eating to see if she could see him.

"Sorry girl, he doesn't eat breakfast in here," Alya said amused when she clocked on to what Marinette was doing.

"Oh," Marinette said, unable to hide her disappointment, "Well, I only saw him a few days ago. It hasn't been that long right? I'm sure I'll be able to catch up with him again soon. He doesn't even know I'm here… did I tell you?"

Alya nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Um… Mari?" she said, shifting in her seat, "about Adrien…" but before Alya could continue, she was interrupted by a woman shouting.

"Alya! This tray is ready to be taken to the Arancia Suite!"

"Coming ma'am," Alya called back, jumping to her feet and dusting down her uniform with her hands, "I'll talk to you about it later."

"Okay," Marinette replied, "who is in the Arancia Suite?"

"The Italian Princess," Alya nodded, "with all the extra guests that need attending to we've all had to take on additional duties. Madame Sancoeur is even going to draft in the cotters to be footmen for some of the balls."

"Alya!" the woman called again, shooting a pained look in their direction. Alya shrugged her shoulders and said a rushed goodbye before darting off to start her jobs for that morning. Marinette watched her friend go with a smile, then left herself to find Tikki.

The morning passed with no significant differences compared to the previous days. Marinette managed to have a quick word with Tikki before she was shoved into the other room, and the plan they had for that day was affirmed. Her mending work was repetitive, but it was just what Marinette needed to calm her nerves before Tikki came and got her out, claiming that she was required to help with a dress fitting. The two of them walked down the corridor together, Tikki murmuring encouraging words and leaving her at the doors with a kiss on the forehead and an enthusiastic 'good luck!'

With a smile to Tikki, Marinette ran out across the courtyard and straight to the stables, waving to Plagg who was sat on his hay bale as she passed.

"Good day for a climb," he grunted at her as he settled down for a nap. She nodded in reply, heading straight to Brie's stall. The pony nudged at her, and she patted his nose as she walked past him to drag her equipment out from its place under the trapdoor.

The minute Marinette fastened her mask over her eyes, she felt the change deep down in her core, as if the ties that held her mask to her face also tied up all the flaws in Marinette's own personality: the nerves, the over-excitement and the worry. Ladybug had a goal and a plan on how she needed to achieve that and so, leaving her bow and quicker in their hole, she strapped her knife to her thigh for comfort and slipped out of the stables.

The western courtyard, near the palace arena, was teaming with people all swarming about, trying to get into the queue to declare to just get a glimpse of what was going on. Knights were striding, commanding space and respect, and peasants were clambering over each other. Declaring was the unofficial first test of the tournament, and it was a challenge just to be allowed into the arena in the first place.

Being in the main crowd almost suffocated Ladybug, so she pushed through to the palace wall and walked along the outskirts. No one had noticed who she was, there were too many people and too much going on for them to worry about anyone other than themselves.

The stewards, identifiable by the Royal Butterfly crest emblazoned on their shirts, were trying to get everyone into some sort of order and all their focus was on the restless crowd in front of them. This made it easy for Ladybug to slip behind them unnoticed and walk around the back of the structure that made up the arena. She knew she didn't have the luxury of waiting around in the courtyard all afternoon and so she needed a different strategy.

At the head of the queue, there was a gate into the Arena, where a steward was waving through one person at a time. It led through a tunnel under the seating area and out into the Arena itself, directly facing the Royal Box where the King would be seated. The tiered seats that surrounded the arena were made with a sturdy wood, and it was the intricate design of the scaffolding that held up those seats that managed to catch Ladybug's eye.

Giving off an air of nonchalance, she strode over to the scaffolding and pushed it with her hands for a moment, getting used to the feel. She looked up, taking a moment to picture the climb in her head before scaling the wooden posts as fast as she could

Although she had tried to tune out the crowd as much as possible, a few whisperings caught her attention, and, against her better judgement, she glanced back to see people pointing and watching. The red of he tunic wasn't designed for camouflage after all, and she assumed that she stood out like a sore thumb.

Ladybug gave the crowd a little salute with her free hand and reached to grab the top of the wooden structure. A shout came from down below as the stewards called for the guards, but what they would have done about someone climbing into the arena this way, she did not know. She vaulted over the fence at the back when she reached it and landed silently at the back behind the seats before she could find out.

It was completely silent compared to the hustle and bustle of the courtyard outside. Ladybug didn't move, unnoticed as all eyes were trained on the arena floor.

A knight had walked out, taking his place in the centre. A Sir Kim Chiến Lê or something with a red shirt barely covering his broad shoulders. His hair was unnaturally stuck up as well, and he confidently said the words for the declaration. Ladybug listened carefully, committing the phrase to memory. She took a deep breath as Sir Kim walked back the way he came out of the Arena, knowing that that was her one chance.

Forcing herself not to look around, heart pounding in her chest, she focused solely on the formidable presence of King Gabriel as she descended the stairs and walked across the arena floor. The guards immediately stood to attention, and a number of spears were pointed directly at her. She made herself take a deep breath.

"Daddy!" A bratty, obnoxious voice cut through the hush of the arena. "That's the girl who stole my dress!" It broke through the tension that had descended, and there was a sudden uproar of people shouting 'thief' and brandishing their fists at her. Ladybug didn't react, just keeping her eyes trained on the King in front of her and prayed that they couldn't see how much her legs were shaking.

Gabriel watched, a slight, almost indistinguishable smirk crossing his thin mouth as Ladybug squirmed under the pressure until he held his hand up and silence fell suddenly on the crowd.

"Enough!" he commanded, standing and clenching his fists around the wooden barrier in front of him. "What is it you want Ladybug?" he asked her, his tone calm but cold, "is this an attempt at a robbery? A ransom or assassination?" Gabriel let a chuckle escape his lips as if the idea was absurd.

"No, my king," Ladybug replied, holding eye contact with him, "why else would I be here?" Without missing a beat, she bent her knee and pulled her knife from her holster and held it aloft, head bowed. "I, Ladybug, swear my fealty to my King and offer my speed, skill and strength to him with all my heart. I declare that I will fight in this tournament as his servant under the banner of Francia and I will prove my worth until I am dismissed, win or lose my life trying. "

There was a pause accompanied by a few gasps in the crowd.

"I accept your declaration," King Gabriel said, hints of curiosity in his voice. "Arise, Ladybug, as a representative of the crown. May I offer you protection for the duration of this tournament and open my home to you."

"Many thanks, my King." Ladybug rose to her feet and smiled, allowing herself to look around at the crowd for the first time. She was safe and through the first hurdle and although it would only get harder from here on out, there was a huge sense of relief that the guards hadn't impaled her on first sight. Sheathing her dagger, she caught the gave of a boy who was sat next to the King grinning widely at her. He was familiar somewhat, with the golden hair and the green eyes, and she stared back at him until it hit her.

It was Adrien.


	8. Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien discovers some rumours and sees Ladybug without his mask for the first time.

Nino, Adrien had firmly decided, was some sort of angel trapped in a tall, gangly, olive-skinned boy's body.

As per King Gabriel's instructions, Nino had been following Adrien around the past few days, which had meant that there hadn't been the need for the Gorilla or Nooroo to be anywhere near him. Although, he did catch the latter lurking around in the shadows out of the corner of his eyes. Even with Nino glued to his side currently, the two boys had always spent a lot of time in each other's company, so it was easy for Adrien to pretend that there was still that small essence of freedom in his castle life.

Adrien had tried to visit Plagg that morning and bring the cotter the camembert from the breakfast tray as he would usually, but Nino had been quick to ferry him straight to the Arena for that morning's training session. Adrien just put on a gracious smile and did as was expected, but he hit one of the dummies a little harder with his sword in frustration – managing to lop the straw arm and head off in the process.

The afternoon was spent entertaining the different guests in turn. Adrien was genuinely enjoying getting to know Myléne, Juleka and the others. Even though Felix was bringing the mood down with a sour expression, and Lila was hanging onto his arm and ignoring everyone else. Then there was Chloé managing to worm her way into their little royal circle and getting annoyed at the fact that Lila was next to him. By the end of dinner though, Adrien began to get distracted and started fidgeting in his seat as he looked for an opening to leave.

It was then that Nino, a blessing in disguise, walked over to the table and casually 'reminded' the prince that he was required to attend early training come morning, giving him the perfect excuse to retire to his chambers early.

Nino followed him into the room and jumped straight onto Adrien's bed. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his arms behind his head.

"If I had had to stand there and watch you completely zone out of the conversation once more I would have smacked you around the head m'lord," he said, "I know you have wanted to get out of here since you first woke up this morning." Adrien began to protest, but Nino shook his head, gesturing vaguely towards the window. "Nope, I know you too well. Do not even try it. Go on, go do your thing, I am going to take a nap right here."

"What, on my bed?"

"It's more comfortable than mine. Shoo." And with that, Nino casually turned his back on Adrien and snuggled down on top of his blankets leaving the prince just gaping at him until his face broke into a big grin. He darted over to his window and climbed out.

Adrien's quarters were in the east wing of the palace, but they faced north, overlooking the gardens. If he edged his way around the side of the palace using the cracks in the stone as handholds, he could easily drop onto the roof of the Servant's Wing, and from there it was an easy climb down and a short run over to the stables. Granted far more effort was required than sneaking down through the side door, but it was totally worth it.

Chat Noir's meeting with Ladybug was as amazing as it always was, she seemed a lot more reassured when he told her that he would be there supporting her as much as he could. He wondered fleetingly how she would react if she realised that the same boy who robbed countless courtiers at her side also sat next to the man who forced them to steal in the first place. Would she even be able to recognise him without the mask on? How well did she actually know him? Could she even begin to dig through the layers that made Adrien who he was to see the Chat Noir side underneath?

He secretly hoped that she would.

Ladybug had run ahead of him on the way back to the palace, and by the time Chat Noir reached the stables, she had already vanished into thin air. He missed her already; her smile, her laugh, the way her blue eyes sparkled, and her lips quirked when she won one of their little sparring matches or when they bantered back and forth. All those little things that made her as amazing as she was, and he was the only one who truly got to see that side of her, in the same way that she could see him.

He ditched his costume in the stables and made the slow climb back up to his bedroom. Nino helped him get ready for bed, not asking any questions and quietly exiting the room to allow Adrien to fall into bed and sleep.

**-x-x-x-x-**

The next thing Adrien was aware of was Nino returning, dumping the breakfast tray on the bed and flinging open the curtains so sunlight flooded the room.

"Good morning sunshine!" he said brightly, coming back and perching on the edge of Adrien's bed. He picked up one of the bread rolls and took a bite. Adrien grunted and rubbed his forehead, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"Sunshine?" he questioned, yawning.

"Huh." Nino shrugged. "I guess I have been spending too much of my time with Alya," he said through a mouthful of bread. Adrien picked up some food without really looking at it and took a bite as Nino continued. "So, how was Marinette?"

The prince choked, crumbs sputtering on to the sheets.

"Nino! I wasn't… I didn't go and see  _her!_ She's not even in Parigi, she's away on a trip for a month!" he exclaimed. Nino looked at him, puzzled.

"She's not in Parigi, that much is true," he replied casually, "but I met her the other day, she's staying in the servant's wing for the tournament." Adrien just sat and blinked at him. "Her mistress was among the extra help Madame Sancoeur drafted in, and I'm going to assume by the look on your face that that ain't ringing any bells?"

Marinette is staying here? At the palace?" Adrien questioned.

"Yeah? According to Alya, it's been all the girl can talk about for weeks. Well, that and… well… you," Nino jabbed Adrien in the shoulder. "How come she didn't tell you?"

Adrien thought back over his conversations with Marinette. He knew who she was going with, what she was going to do when she was leaving and returning to her normal routine, but somehow the 'where' part had been missed, maybe due to Marinette's stammering around him or due to him forgetting to ask. He looked at Nino and shook his head.

"Well, I foresee that being a slightly awkward situation in future. I wish you the best m'lord," Nino nodded, "she's a nice girl, shame she is just a baker's daughter huh." He slid off the bed and tidied up the tray, placing it by the door, so it was ready to be taken back to the kitchens.

"Why would that be a shame?" Adrien asked, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it out a little and sliding out of bed to go and splash water on his face.

"It's so obvious," Nino said, folding his arms, "ever since you met Marinette you have been excited about waking up in the morning, not just spending the whole day wishing for it to end so you can sneak out to do whatever. His Majesty is never going to allow a match such as that."

"Marinette is just a friend Nino!" Adrien said, trying to stop the colour creeping into his cheeks. "I don't… I could never like her in that way."

"Of course not," Nino nodded, ducking to dodge the pillow that Adrien ripped off the bed and tossed at his head. "So what were you doing last night?"

"Just running. The same as I have every night for months now."

"I'm just going to pretend I believe that the same way I have pretended to believe you for months," Nino said and busied himself getting Adrien ready for the Declaration Parade. Adrien didn't bother replying to him or pushing the issue. It was more important that Marinette was somewhere in the castle and he didn't know how she was going to react when she figured out that he was the prince and he had been subtly lying to her from the first moment they had met. There was a small part of him that felt incredibly uneasy with the idea of Marinette hating him in any sort of way.

Then Nino had to go imply that he  _liked_ Marinette, which was just stupid. He had only known Marinette a few weeks, and he wasn't able to deny that was cute and that it was amusing to see her blush and smile. He loved talking to her and listening to her stories. She was warm and sweet and being around her gave him a happy and content feeling.

But that didn't compare to Ladybug. The sheer mention of his partner's name was enough to send his mind racing and his heart pounding. She was fire and mystery, and he was proud to stand by her side, knowing that he would risk everything just to remain there.

What did his feelings matter anyway? He was going to marry a princess or a high-born girl. He shouldn't be thinking about either Marinette or Ladybug in any way other than platonic. The tournament should be his focus, second to finding a suitable queen to make his father happy.

This was Nino's fault. Putting thoughts into his head like this.

His servant finished getting him dressed, the stiff clothing scratched at Adrien's skin and forced him to keep his head high. His gold circlet rested heavily on the top of his head, marking him out as Gabriel's own. He walked down to the Entrance hall, where people were gathering before parading into the Arena, and immediately went and stood by Felix. Gabriel was next to Elizabeth, nodding politely as the Queen recounted a story in her usual exuberant fashion with only the subtle hints of frustration in his eye.

Mylène and Ivan both came over to join him, quickly followed by Juleka and Rose, and they chatted about the day ahead. Adrien joined in with the conversation eagerly and effortlessly, laughing along with them where appropriate, and reassuring Mylène that Ivan was massive and would have no problems in the days ahead.

A few minutes later, Adrien felt a light hand touch his forearm. He turned to see the Italian princess looking at him with a warm smile on her lips that didn't quite manage to reach her olive-green eyes. She was wearing a soft orange dress with thousands of tiny white sparkling gems embroidered in swirls along the bodice and hem. Her hair was tied loosely back, with strands framing her face and a golden tiara rested on the top of her head, encrusted with rare orange diamonds.

"Good morning Adrien." She said, more or less ignoring the rest of the crowd. She subtly bumped Felix out of the way and took his place at Adrien's side without batting an eyelid. His cousin raised an eyebrow at him but turned his attention to Juleka and Rose instead.

"Lila," Adrien replied politely, "I trust you slept well?"

"Like a dream," Lila replied, nodding once, "I thought that maybe we could go for a walk after dinner tonight. Just the two of us?"

"Oh?" he said, trying to keep his expression neutral.

"Yes, maybe along the Kwami Pass? I have heard that that part of the forest is beautiful in the springtime. Do say you will accompany me, I need someone to protect me from the bandits."

Felix let out a snort at that statement.

"If I may, Princess, if you are that worried about bandits, I suggest the Kwami Pass is not the ideal place for a stroll," he commented, "Which way did you come? Were you not warned about Ladybug and Chat Noir?"

"We came via the Ocean Road, straight from the Parigi Docks," Lila replied, narrowing her eyes at Felix. "Who are they?"

"Oh, you haven't heart the stories?" Mylène interrupted this time, "of the two hooded bandits robbing carriages in the twilight?"

"It's so romantic!" Rose gasped, turning her attention to them and clasping her hands together, "I heard that they were star-crossed lovers who were forbidden from ever being together so they meet as the sun sets in the sky and steal money so they can eventually run away and start their new life together. But they keep giving their money and only chance for happiness away to the poor."

Adrien coughed, trying to hide his laugh and maintain his composure.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Our Ambassador told us the story after an official visit last month!" Rose leaned back against Juleka's shoulder with a dreamy smile.

"Um… yes," Juleka said, her brown eyes flicking to the top of the blonde princess' head. "We've heard the same thing… yes…" Mylène and Ivan both nodded their agreement as well.

"So did we, Mother loves the stories," Felix said dryly, "But I do not think there is much truth to the tale. They are just thieves who claimed the Kwami Pass as their hunting grounds."

"I cannot believe your father allows that sort of behaviour so close to the palace!" Lila said, disgusted. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Believe me," Adrien said, repressing a small shiver, "it is not for the lack of trying." Memories of the guards sweeping the forest to try and find them flickered through his mind. "Finding two people in the entirety of the Kwami Wood is no small feat. Especially when the just ditch their costumes and blend into the crowds in Parigi… or so I have heard."

Lila huffed and opened her mouth to say something else when she was interrupted by Madame Sancoeur entering the room.

"My King. Your Majesties," she said, bowing low as she addressed the room, "Everything is ready for you now."

"Thank you, Nathalie," Gabriel nodded to her. He offered his arm to Elizabeth, "Shall we?"

Elizabeth took his arm, and he led her outside and towards the arena. Adrien had half a mind to offer to escort Rose as he wanted to hear more of the star-crossed lover's story, but Lila had her hand resting on his before he could even make eye contact with her. Felix just shot him a look, offering a free arm to Rose and escorting both her and Juleka, so no one was left out.

They followed the King to their seats in the arena's viewing area, a special part set aside for the King and the guests with proper chairs and cushions. Adrien, Felix and Ivan made sure the Princesses were settled and walked into the centre of the arena. It was full to the brim of the lords and ladies from all the visiting kingdoms, the entire court turning out to watch the declarations as was expected.

The three boys faced the King as Gabriel stood, tall and proud and spoke.

"The King's Tournament is a long and proud tradition in Francia. It is a celebration, not only of my own son coming of age as the tournament closes but also of the many friendships and allies we have made over the years. I welcome our guests from all the beautiful Eurasian countries. It has been too long since we have stood side by side and the whole of my Kingdom is honoured that you choose to celebrate with us.

The tournament will text the bravest contenders from every nation. Although all are welcome to declare today and partake in the first round, only 32 contenders will progress to the second round, and again just the 16 with the greatest skill shall be our champions for the third. The honour of winning this tournament is not matched by any other and should not be taken lightly.

Before we begin, I extend my personal invitation to all sat here and all who come before us today to join us for the opening feast in three days hence." There was a ripple of approval in the crowd as they clapped happily. "Now, let us honour the brave men and women who will declare themselves in front of the court today, and choose to risk their life for the glory this tournament can bring."

The King placed both his hands down on the barrier in front of him and stared intently at Adrien. The Prince took a step forward and bowed to his father.

"I, Prince Adrien Agreste, swear my fealty to my father, the King. I honour and serve only him. I declare that I will fight in this tournament under the banner of Francia and that I will prove my speed, skill and strength until I am dismissed, win or lose my life trying," he said, forcing his voice to stay calm and clear.

"I accept your declaration," he said, and sat back down in his chair, cold eyes never leaving the arena floor.

Adrien took a step back, listening as Felix declared for Bretagna and Ivan for Norvegia. They then walked back around and took their seats in the viewing area with the other princesses.

It was an awfully long morning for all of them. Aside from the odd comment, they had to sit in near silence as each person was brought through individually and declared for their respective countries. Juleka and Ivan, at least, were able to stand whenever they were needed to accept declarations from Danimarka and Norvegia, being the sole representatives for their countries, whereas the rest of them had to sit stiffly and just watch and wait. When they paused for lunch, Adrien was half tempted to ditch the rest of the afternoon, but Ladybug hadn't appeared yet, and the risk of invoking his father's wrath was too great. So, he played the good little prince, watching eagerly as each person walked into the arena in hopes it was his lady.

Adrien tried to stifle a yawn, as a small girl with unnatural coloured hair took her place and stood proudly in the arena declaring for Bretagna. Felix leaned over in his chair and nudged him.

"She's good," he commented, "dyes her hair with beet juice to get that colour. I've sparred with her before, and it can be very disconcerting to have a streak of pink running at you like that."

Adrien nodded his head idly, watching as the girl, a Dame Alix Kubdel, finished her declaration and another knight taking her place almost immediately, also declaring for Bretagna. But by this time, he had lost all interest as something up in the crowd caught his eye.

The knight's voice blended into the background as Adrien's attention was drawn by the familiar hood as he saw Ladybug sat at the top of the arena's wall, swinging her legs. He frowned, what was she doing sat up there?

Sir Kim, or whatever his name was, finished his declaration, Queen Elizabeth accepted it, and he strode out of the arena. Adrien, along with the rest of the arena, could only stare as Ladybug walked down the steps and hopped over the fence onto the arena floor. He could see her hands were tensed, and she was breathing heavily, probably silently terrified of what she was about to do and Adrien didn't blame her. He heard Chloé shout out and the crowd descended into noise and chaos until his father took control of the situation. Digging his nails into his palm, Adrien willed her to stay strong as he watched her declare her fealty to the king that she hated.

"I accept your declaration," King Gabriel said with a nod and Adrien felt the pride well up in his chest. His lady had taken the first step in the tournament, walked out in front of a crowd of people and now she was safe. No one could arrest a tournament contender while they were competing. A small smile broke out on her face as she thanked the king and glanced around at the rest of the crowd. Her blue eyes locked onto his for a split second and he stopped breathing or thinking straight, a look of confusion gracing her features for a second before the moment had ended and she was escorted from the arena.

He had this urge to see her, needing to talk to her. He didn't care that he wasn't wearing his mask and he could easily reveal her or their shared secrets. There was no way he could sit and wait until that evening while she was right there in front of him.

"I'll be back in a moment," Adrien murmured to Felix and jumped to his feet, speeding out of the arena before anyone could question him. He grabbed the arm of one of the servants walking past, sending up prayers of thanks that it just happened to be Alya bringing refreshments on a tray, and asked her where the contenders went once they had left the arena.

"The contestants are given an itinerary for the tournament and then sent on their way," she informed him, looking at him bemused. Adrien just thanked her and moved on before the conversation could continue, scanning the crowds outside the arena for any signs of the red hood.

Now and then Adrien thought he caught a glimpse of her as Ladybug weaved her way quickly through the crowd. He took off after her, not thinking about what was around and who was watching him. She broke out of the crowd and headed over to the tables, which was where he managed to grab her arm and pull her round to the side, away from prying eyes.

"Don't turn around!" he said, scanning the area quickly to make sure they were truly alone. He could feel her stiffening, getting ready to defend herself. "It's just me m'lady, but don't look. I don't have my mask on."

"Chat Noir?" Ladybug visually relaxed, and he dropped his hand, running it through his hair. "What are you doing Kitty? Someone could see you!"

"I know, but I couldn't just let you walk away without coming over to say hello." Adrien smiled and gently reached forward to take her hand. She didn't say anything for a moment. "Is everything alright?" he asked, running his thumb over her palm.

"I just learnt something interesting," she said, "someone I thought was a friend was lying to me the whole time."

"And you are letting that idiot ruin your day, after what you just did?" Adrien shook his head. "Celebrate now and deal with him when you see him next."

"You are right," she said, squeezing his hand, "you saw, didn't you? You watched me do that? I didn't just hallucinate the whole thing?"

"Of course, I was watching you from the from the first moment that you appeared in the arena," he replied, "that was completely reckless and stupid by the way, and I approve wholeheartedly. How did you even manage that?"

"I climbed, it wasn't that difficult," Ladybug said eagerly, "I did not have the time to be waiting around in the crowd, and that seemed like the best option."

"Amazing," Adrien smiled, "you definitely left an impression." Word would get around quickly, and she was going to be a target for some less honourable knights during the race. "Even the King was impressed with you, I could tell."

"You think?" Ladybug sighed, "Oh Chat, all those beautiful dresses and the atmosphere, it was so exciting! I stood in front of the King today and the whole court! That is something I would never even dream of a month ago, and I didn't get stabbed by guards!"

Adrien bit his lip, smiling as she recounted every minute of what had happened as if she was bursting to tell someone. He just let her talk, hanging onto every word and dropping little comments when she stopped to take a breath. She seemed happy, and he couldn't be happier for her.

"Can you do me a favour?" he asked once she had finished.

"Anything," she replied, "Chat, you know I would literally do anything for you."

Adrien gulped.

"Just close your eyes," he said and moved his hands gently to her shoulders so he could turn her around. As he trusted she would, her eyes were closed tightly behind her mask.

"Why?"

"So I can hug you." Adrien's voice dropped low, and he reached for her, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, knocking her hood back as he did so. His cheek rested against the bare skin of her jaw, and her black hair tickled his nose. He felt her arms move to wrap around his shoulders, feeling her way with the lightest of touches whilst she couldn't see, "I am so proud of you M'lady. Your bravery today was inspiring."

"This is only the first step though Chaton," she replied softly, her gloved fingers brushing against the hair at the nape of his neck, "this was the easiest part."

"You interrupted a procession, stood in front of the King and a ton of the courtiers who you have spent months robbing blind and declared that you wanted to take part in a tournament against a few of the top knights in all Eurasia," Adrien murmured, not wanting to let her go just yet. She didn't pull back either. "That is  _paw_ -sitively amazing in my books." Ladybug trailed her fingers along the top of his shoulder finding a suitable place to smack him for the pun. " _Meow-_ ch!" Another smack.

"Ugh Chat, ruining the moment," Ladybug laughed, taking half a step back.

"Sorry," Adrien chuckled and scanned her face, marvelling at the way her hair brushed the top of her mask and framed her face, "you will be absolutely brilliant Ladybug, I know you will. I have complete faith in you."

Ladybug shook her head, quickly pulling her hood up once more.

"What did I ever do to deserve that?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

"Other than exist?" Adrien replied. Ladybug waved her hand at him, trying to playfully smack him for the third time. He just dodged and took her hand again in his and cupped her face with the other. "My faith in you is not misplaced. You prove that to me every day when we meet. You have never let me down, never let the people down, and now you have an opportunity here to show the rest of the world the same things that I am privileged to witness on a daily basis. That kindness and skill and everything else. I know you are going to be amazing in this tournament because I have never seen anything to the contrary. Do you understand?"

Ladybug's cheeks turned pink, and she raised her head as if she was trying to look at him, resting her free hand on his chest.

"I could never do any of this without you, you know?" she said, " Even if I am not allowed to see you right now, we are an unstoppable team."

"That we are." Adrien smiled. He reluctantly took a step back, bringing the hand he was holding to his lips, lingering there for a moment. "I have to go before someone starts to ask questions. I will meet you later though? Usual place? I heard a great rumour from Germania that we are actually star-crossed lovers and I need to tell you about it."

Ladybug laughed.

"Would not miss it for the world," she said, beaming at him. He couldn't resist pulling her back in for another, albeit brief, hug.

"Count to 10, then open your eyes," he said. She nodded and started counting down out loud as he walked away from her. He replayed every second in his mind, the way her cheeks flushed, the way her skin felt against his own, and the way her mask concealed the only part of her that was completely off limits to him.

As he ran back to the arena, he was too distracted to take note of the flash of orange fabric as someone quickly hid behind the stable door. Orange fabric that belonged to a dress whose owner may or may not have been close enough to them to hear and see a little more than she should.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you ever so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it!  
> All Comments and Kudos are really appreciated and I am so grateful!  
> Come find me on TUMBLR [@Miiiraculous ](http://miiiraculous.tumblr.com)


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